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Just Curious Ch. 02

By: lioness_71



As promised, here is part 2 of the 4 part story. 

*

So, I have one of those evil, vindictive bodies that likes to get up super early in the morning after a night of drinking. At 5:10 AM I am heading to the bathroom, I'm not puking yet, but there is still that possibility. After a few glasses of water I stumble downstairs and fall onto the couch. 

By 10:00 I am functioning well enough to head back upstairs for a long shower and to get dressed. Heading back downstairs, I grumble about my choice of renting a 2-story townhouse. Food is next on my list, and after three weeks of hell at work, there's not much left. I find a slice of pizza, 4 restaurant packets of jelly, and the end of a box of Nilla Wafers. The breakfast of champions. I need to go grocery shopping.

Rifling through my kitchen, I write down everything I'm out of, which is basically everything. I grab my keys, take a deep breath, and head out into the bright, shiny, noisy world. "FUCK!" Who stole my car? My car's gone! Where the hell is my car? I take another deep breath and try thinking. Drinking, I remember drinking. I remember that scary club. I remember the shadow man, but it takes a few minutes to remember his name was Dustin. I remember Brian was in town. Dan and Brian drove me home. My car is at the club. Yes! My car has not been stolen. I wait a few moments for my heart rate to return to normal. Now what?

About an hour later, I'm in the back of a cab, driving toward the factory district. The cab driver questioned the address, but eventually he started driving. Once we get into the factory district itself, and I see the row after row of abandoned and decaying building. I am starting to get very nervous. What if no one's there, how am I supposed to get my car out? What if that man is there? Even worse, what if he's not? I'm about to chicken out, to tell the cab driver to take me back home, when he turns a corner, and I can see the taller factory, standing proudly above all the other factories. Shit, now what do I do?

The cab slows to a stop in front of the brick building; the only thing marring its façade is an ominous pair of steel double doors. The driver looks at me, waiting. I fish some cash out of my pocket, and ask if he'll wait until someone opens the doors. He says he will.

Taking a deep breath, I exit the cab and walk up to the double doors. There is no bell or buzzer, just a keypad. So I knock on the doors. Half of me is hoping that no one answers, the other half hopes the shadow man opens the doors. I knock again, louder this time. I wait a bit more, and just as I'm about to turn away, I hear something behind the door. A few second later the door swings open. The bartender from last night is standing there. 

"Umm, hi. I left my car in the back parking lot yesterday. I was wondering if I could get it?" 

The bartender stares at me for a moment, the steps back to let me in. I turn and wave to the cab driver, thanking him for waiting. I watch as he slowly starts to drive away. I feel alone, and a little scared watching him drive off.

I remember the bartender from last night. Mid to late 20's, blue eyes, tan skin, bald, with those big arms bodybuilders have. He made really good margaritas.

I walk into the club, as the bartender closes the door, the lock sounding ominous as it echoes through the hall. There is an elevator off to one side, and a hallway straight ahead. The bartender leads me down the hallway, past several doors, and into the main room, the one we were in last night. It's as big as I remember it. He heads behind the bar and I take a seat on a barstool. He pulls out his cell phone, hits one button and waits. 

In a slightly forced, cheerful voice "Hey boss."{pause} "Someone's here to get their car. You wanna come down and unlock the gate?" {another pause and he pulls the phone away from his ear}

I watch as he looks at his phone, scowling. He pushes the one button again. {pause} "Hey Dustin. There's a TALL REDHEAD sitting at the bar. She left her car here LAST NIGHT and wants to get it." Not very subtle. The conversation continues on the other end for a few seconds more before he hangs up.

"Is that him? Dustin? Why did you have to call him?" I don't want to know, but I had to ask.

"Yeah, that was him. He's my boss. He wanted to know if you ever showed up again. He'll be down in a bit. He said you could have a drink while you waited. I'm Harper by-the-way." My head drops down onto the bar. Why did he have to call him? What am I going to say to him? 

This is what curiosity does to people. This is what killed the cat. 

Picking my head up, and fixing my best hung-over smile on my face. "Hi Harper. Is that a first name or a last name? Got any juice? I don't think I could handle anymore alcohol right now."

He laughs. "I was making them a bit strong yesterday. And Harper is my last name, I hate my first name, very few people even know it." He adds conspiratorially. He then rattles off a bunch of juices that he has behind the bar. I settle on a pineapple/cranberry blend, chatting with Harper, wasting away the minutes, awaiting my fate.

Almost as an afterthought, Harper adds: "You be careful, OK?"

"Jared said that last night. Is he really that dangerous?" What the hell am I getting myself into?

"Not dangerous like that, but he will test you. See how far you will go and then see if he can get you to go farther. He wants to see how much you can endure. Just don't scream. He hates that."

Just don't scream? 

**********

What the hell is that noise? Whoever is calling at this hour had better have a VERY good reason. He grabs the cell phone off the nightstand and glares at the screen. Harper? Must be serious or he wouldn't call. 

"What?" {pause} "You fucking have keys." He angrily closes the phone, hanging up on his manager. Idiot! Slamming the phone back on the nightstand, he snuggles back into bed.

Again? He's calling again! I'm going to kill him! "What?" {pause} It takes a few seconds to realize what he's hearing. She's here! Fuck. She's here! Think. 

"Don't let her leave. I'll be down in a few minutes. Do NOT let her leave!" He jumps out of bed, naked, and heads for the bathroom. After he's done, he brushes his teeth, splashes water on his face, and uses some to try and straighten his morning hair. He returns to his bedroom and grabs a pair of silky black pajama pants and a long sleeve cotton shirt from the dresser (they were on the top). He dresses as he starts for the elevator. She's here, and alone, now I just have to figure out how to get her tied up. He smiles as he enters the elevator. I didn't think she'd come back.

**********

The doors on the opposite side of the hall open suddenly; the noise startles me as it rings through the large open space. Shit! It's him. He's wearing baggy, comfortable looks black pants, and a long sleeve grey shirt. His eyes find mine as soon as I turn toward the noise. I watch as he strides toward me, calm, confident. Be calm, you're just here to get your car, and get out. 

"Hey boss." Harper calls out a greeting. 

Dustin nods at him, but his first words are for me. "You left rather quickly last night. I figured you couldn't handle it. I sure as shit didn't think you'd come back for your car without backup." She's got a stubborn, proud streak in her, I can use that.

"I don't need backup to pick up my own car. I didn't want to bother the guys. I just need my car, and I can go." Please, please, please just let me get my car. 

"What's your hurry? I could give you the tour, there's a whole other floor upstairs."

Even I know if I say I have to go grocery shopping, it's going to sound lame. "Look, just let me get my car, OK?" That came out as more of a question.

"You still seem scared. You ran out of here last night without even saying 'goodbye'. Did I scare you, girl?"

I really don't like him calling me girl; it makes me seem like a child. But I don't know how to tell him to stop it without whining like a kid. So I'll let that drop. I don't want to get into a confrontation about whether or not I was scared, which I wasn't. So I'll just let that slide as well. Now what do I say?

Too late. He appoints himself tour guide before I can think of what to say. "Come on. I'll show you around." He takes my arm and gets me to stand up. No, no no no.

"Look, it's a nice club and all, but I just want my car. And I'll be out of your hair." Please, please, please just let me get my car.

"It's a great club. Why don't you want to see it? A full tour is pretty rare. You should be flattered." She seems to be fumbling with her thoughts. Let's just see if I can keep her off balance a bit more. Interrupting her before she can answer seems to be working also.

Crap, this is getting me nowhere. "It's seems great. Really great. But you're kind of an ass, and I would rather not spend more time with you than I already have." Blunt and to the point. That should do the trick, right? I turn when I hear Harper laughing behind the bar. Dustin turns and glares at him. Harper puts his hands up, in mock surrender. Then he turns and walks out a door that's next to the bar. I swear I can still hear him giggling. Now I'm alone with the shadow man.

He smiles and shakes his head. "Come on, I'll give you the tour anyway." He takes me by the arm and starts guiding me toward the door I just entered through. He leads me to the room behind the stage first. It's basically a large prop room/dressing room. There's a whole wall full of strange devices and frames used to restrain people. There's a large mirror, a shower, and various ropes and chains. He walks me out through two sets of black heavy drapes, onto the stage. 

Dustin leads me to the center of the stage and steps back. I'm standing, alone, on the same stage I saw last night. It's eerie up here. Images of those women from last night flash through my mind. I can feel my pussy start to tingle. I look back at him, he's always watching me. Silently he steps up behind me, and puts his hands on my waist. Standing behind me, he presses his body against mine.

He's speaking so softly I have to concentrate to hear him. He's making me focus on his every word. "Can you see yourself up here? Faceless strangers watching you from below. Bound and helpless. Naked. Are you imagining a man using you? Thrusting inside you. Inside your pussy. Inside your ass. Can you see yourself cumming? In front of everyone. Can you see me fucking you?"

I pull away quickly. He had me, up until he said he was the man fucking me. Damn. What the hell is wrong with me? He just stands there, watching me. He knows I was imaging him. He knows it. 

Silently, with a smug smile on his face, he takes my hand again and leads me off the stage. I follow him. I don't know what else to do. My body just follows him. We walk silently through the curtains, through the prop room, and into the main hallway. There are four doors along the opposite side of the hall. 

"These four viewing rooms are all similar, just differences in color and style of furniture basically. Which one do you want to see?" He waits for me to answer. He never presses or demands, he just waits. I either answer or we stand there forever. 

I randomly point to one. From what he said, it doesn't matter which I choose. He walks us to the door, and swipes a badge. After the beep, he opens the door with a flourish and motions for me to enter first. 

My first impression is of a living room. There are two semicircle rows of blue couches, some tables and lamps along the wall, and a kitchenette in the back with an empty wine fridge. The walls are beige, the wood accents are a dark pine, and the carpet has a swirl design. It looks normal, and comfortable, except for the eight large TV's hanging on one wall.

"Are those for watching dirty movies?" I feel instantly stupid for saying 'dirty movies'. It sounded so childish. 

He's smiling again. Damnit! I should just stop talking. "Not too often. Usually these are for live action viewing."

"Like the two stage acts from yesterday?" Why would they watch in here when they are up on a stage anyway?

"No. There are four rooms upstairs set up with audio and visual components. Masters can watch their subs being used by others. On these screens they can see and hear everything that happens. Usually they watch with some close friends, but sometimes alone."

"Why would they let someone else...umm...have sex with their subs?" I really don't like the word 'used'.

"Lots of reasons. They might want to see a different training method. Sometimes they bet their subs on things, and when they lose, they use these rooms to pay the debt. Sometimes they swap subs with each other for a night. Lots of reasons." He says it so casually, like whoring out a woman is a common, everyday thing.

"Bets? Like cards?" 

"Yeah. Poker, sporting events, they even bet on the outcome of Dancing with the Stars one time. Almost any reason." 

"And the women just let them do that? Why?" 

"They aren't all women, some subs are men. And they do it to please. A subs main goal is to please. That's what makes them submissive. I would even guess that a natural submissive might take a dominant role is she thought it would please. She might not even realize what she's doing." I'm guessing here. She naturally follows, but she has no clue why. I'm betting that her past men wanted a tall, strong Amazon, and she naturally tried to fit that. 

"I'm not submissive." This time I look Dustin straight in the eyes. 

Dustin steps into me and kisses me. That wasn't what I was expecting him to do. The kiss is soft and warm, not like last night. He moves closer and I can feel his body touching mine. Slowly his hands roam up my body; over my ass, up my back, along my neck, settling in my hair. I feel a slight pressure, pulling me forward and down. The next thing I know, I'm bent over the back of one of the sofas. I try to stand up, but Dustin won't allow it. He stands behind me, pressing himself against my ass. 

"So submissive, and you don't even know it." He is rocking himself against my ass; I can feel his cock twitching with every motion. "Do you even know why you came back here alone? Your body instinctually knows what I can do to it. Your body craves it. Just let your mind go, and follow your body."

WHACK 

My body jolts as a sharp pain blooms on one side of my ass. 

WHACK 

I inhale sharply as he spanks me again, but I make no move to stand up. The spanking goes right to my core. My pussy is starting to tingle again.

WHACK

Dustin rubs his hand over my ass then he presses himself against me again. He pushes my feet apart with his. His hands leave my hair. He's just standing behind me. He's not moving or holding me down. I stay bent over. Not moving an inch. I don't know what he's doing, or what he wants me to do.

"Good girl. Such a good girl." Dustin is cooing in my ear. "Stand up, the tour is not over yet."

I am in way over my head. Why did I come here? I knew he would be here. I knew it would be like last night. Why do I do everything he says? He's going to fuck me today; and I'm not going to stop him. Do I even want to stop him? 

As expected I stand, and Dustin takes me by the arm and leads me out into the hall. We head silently for the front. I see the door the cab dropped me off in front of. I could just walk out. I could leave and never look back. I look at the shadow man. He is calm, confident, masculine, and handsome. He knows he's going to fuck me. He's knows I won't, or can't say no. What's wrong with me?

We turn and enter the elevator, sleek black and silver. The elevator goes to a total of four floors. Weird, I thought this was a three-story factory. He swipes his badge across the panel, and presses the second floor button. I try to stare straight ahead, but I can feel him watching me. Why does he keep doing that? I'm starting to believe he can read my mind. It's funny because I'm really not thinking much right now, at least not coherently. Let him look.

"What's so funny?" His voice startles me. Can he read minds?

Turning to look at him, I don't know how to answer. He steps closer. He runs a hand gently along my face, down my neck, and around to the back, his thumb stroking up and down my windpipe. He leans in closer. "I expect an answer, girl. Or would you prefer a punishment?" 

The elevator chimes and the doors open, I step out of the elevator and Dustin follows. I can't look at him. I can't answer him. Dustin takes me by the arm and we walk into another large hall, not as huge as the one below, but still impressive. The ceiling was lower, maybe only 15-20 feet high. The room seemed more modern than the other one; TV's on some walls, a fountain over there, sleek light fixtures. There's another bar, and another stage.

I don't get much of a chance to look around. Dustin leads me directly into one of the rooms lining the hall. The lights flicker on as the door opens. The door closing and locking thumps against my skin. The room looks like a rustic cabin, a shocking change from the one we were just in. The walls look like logs; there are hand woven rugs on the floor, even a fireplace. It seems cozy, until I notice the wooden beams in the ceiling. They have heavy iron rings with chains snaking through them. 

I look around and see other things that I didn't notice before. The furniture, rustic as it is, has leather straps built in to them. There are coils of rope hanging on the walls. Even the floors have more of the iron rings in them.

Dustin leaves me standing alone; he goes to an alcove set behind one of the walls. I hear electronics beeping and coming to life. This is one of the audio visual rooms he was talking about! I take a few steps towards the door, my hand finds the doorknob, but the door won't open. I try again hoping, praying for it to open.

Dustin comes out, his eyes piercing me. He snaps his fingers and points to the floor in front of him. Did he just snap at me? No way! Dustin just waits; his scowl deepening, his eyes boring into mine. I cave first. I take a few steps forward. He just waits. One more deep breath for courage, and I walk the rest of the way until I'm standing in front of him.

"Strip for me." He says it so casually, like he's asking for a glass of water.

"What?" He can't be serious.

"I want to see you naked. Now." He waits for a few moments, and then glances behind him. He takes a few steps backwards and casually sits down in a comfortable looking arm chair. He takes a guitar from a stand beside the chair and starts strumming a few notes.

I just stand there and the random notes slowly become a song. My breathing increases, my heart is pounding. Strip for me. How can those three little words cause this much stress? Dustin is just watching me, not doing anything, other than playing the guitar. If he would beg, I would leave. If he would whine, I would leave. If he would threaten, I would leave. But he just sits there, waiting. He knows I'm going to strip; it's just a matter of how long I'm going to wait before I figure it out.

Looking around the cabin room, I see the little red flashing lights. One light is flashing in the corner, one on the cabinet, two in the walls, and even one in the floor. I can't do this. I can't.

He just sits there waiting. Taking a deep breath, and closing my eyes, I slowly reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it easily over my head. There's nowhere to put the shirt, so I drop it on the floor. My jeans are next, so I kick my sandals off. I can hear the button snap, and the zipper opening, but I still can't watch. It feels less real in the darkness; less of a really huge mistake. Slipping the jeans down my legs, I simply step out of them, leaving them on the floor by the shirt.

The guitar is still playing, a soft repetitive chord. It's oddly soothing, even though I don't recognize it. My hands are shaking now, not a lot, but enough to make it difficult to reach behind my back to open my bra. It takes a few seconds before I succeed. Goosebumps form as the soft material slides down my arms and drops to the floor. A single tear follows it down. I'm past the point of no return, so my panties join the pile on the floor unceremoniously. 


Just Curious Ch. 02



I stand there. Alone. Scared. Exposed.

The music continues to play softly for a while. Eventually Dustin stops playing, and I hear the guitar being put back on the stand. Everything is quiet. I wipe away another tear before it drops to the floor. His scent is the first thing I notice, even before I feel his hand on my chin. He tilts my chin down and kisses me. It's a slow, soft, sexual, comforting kiss. 

Dustin whispers in my ear, "You are so beautiful."

My eyes open for the first time. His hand is roaming down my side, eventually resting on my hip. He gives me a few more short quick kisses. "Did you even know you're submissive?"

My head shakes a quick no. 

"I need words, girl. And full sentences. YES or NO is not enough." He's got that commanding voice again. His shirt is brushing against my nipples. That's an extra point of stimulation I don't need distracting me right now.

"No, I don't consider myself submissive." 

"Then why are you here? Naked and alone. Why didn't you run away, back to your safe, boring little world?" His hand is sliding along my stomach, higher and higher, until his hand is cupping my breast. His thumb is brushing across my nipple.

"I don't know." I see his eyes and I know he won't accept that answer. "I was just curious. I keep remembering that woman, bent over the chair. That man whipping her with the cat thing." I hear his soft laughter. It actually scares me that I might have said something stupid. I have to ask. I have to know. "Are you going to hurt me?"

Dustin gets a sad look in his eyes. He nods his head. "Yeah. I'm going to see how much you can endure. I need to explore your limits, and seeing as you have no idea what they are, I'll have to push until you can't take it anymore. It's in my nature. It's what I do, and I do it well." He can see the fear and uncertainty in me. He lays a soft kiss on my shoulder. "Don't worry too much. I know what I'm doing. You'll have no permanent marks. I'll only take you as far as you can handle. And when this is over, you'll be safely back in your home by Monday."

"Monday? I can't stay here till Monday." It's Friday! I need to go grocery shopping. I inhale sharply, my body leaning forward involuntarily as he grasps a nipple between his fingers and pinches. He pinches hard. His head is leaning into my shoulder as I lean against him. My hands fly up to try and stop the pain. "Get your hands off me, girl." 

I take my hands off him, but they hover there. "Please. Please stop. Please stop."

The pain diminishes. I feel heat radiating through my whole breast. I'm panting and Dustin is still holding me. "I told you to watch your tone of voice. I will punish bad behavior." A little spark of anger grows in me. What the fuck was that? He sees the change in my eyes. He sees the fire in them. 

"How's your pussy, girl? I can smell you from here. Show me. Show me how much you really loved that." Dustin stands back from me and waits. I hate that. He's an asshole. He knows I'm going to do whatever he says. The only one who hasn't figured that out yet is me.

My fire sputters out. I knew the instant he mentioned it that my pussy was wet. I can feel it. My eyes close again as I slip my hand between my thighs. I'm soaking wet. My fingers slide easily along my slit. "All the way in, girl. I want to taste you." 

My fingers slide inside my pussy. I can't believe how wet I am. I can't believe how wet HE made me. I pull them out and lift them, slick and wet, offering them to the shadow man.

"Use your words, girl. Beg me to taste you." 

My face burns with humiliation. My words are barely audible. "Please, will you taste me?" I peek, checking his face to see if that was good enough.

"Taste what? I didn't quite hear you. You're going to have to speak louder." He's mocking me.

My eyes close, again I seek refuge in the darkness. I take a breath and will my voice to be strong, when I feel so very weak. "Please, will you taste my pussy?"

I feel his hand on my wrist, pulling my hand towards him. His mouth feels warm as he tastes my fingers, his tongue flicking over my skin. A low moan comes from deep in his chest, as Dustin slowly pulled my fingers out. "Delicious. Tangy and sweet. That little taste you gave me yesterday made me want the real thing. And now I want more." He scoops an arm behind my back and pulls me into him for a kiss. I can taste myself on his lips. His body is pressing against my naked flesh, grinding into me. 

Eventually he pulls away, he has a feral look in his eyes, and I know I'm lost. He leaves me standing there as he goes to a large cabinet along one of the walls. He turns and walks back to me carrying four black tubes. He stops directly in front of me, smiling as he caresses my face. It's never good when he's smiling.

Dustin sinks down and his hand slides up and down my legs, goose bumps forming in its wake. Dustin puts the black things down and opens one. It's a cuff, like the woman on the stage had on. I stand there silently and passively as he affixes one cuff to each ankle, then stands and does the same to my wrists. I get another quick kiss before he turns and walks away again.

He goes to the wall and starts pushing something toward me. It looks like a padded saw horse. It's about three feet high and three feet long. He stops it in the center on the room, checking the position of the cameras. He comes back to me, taking my hand, and leading me to the end of the thing. He stands behind me and puts slight pressure on my back. I lean forward over the saw horse, as Dustin moves to each side and locks my wrists to the wooden legs. He then tries to secure my ankles to the other end. I hear him growl as something is not right. I watch as he goes back to the cabinet and returns. 

"You're legs are a bit longer than most, so we're going to have to improvise." He proudly shows me two iron pegs; like I'm supposed to know what that means. He starts screwing one of the pegs into a hole near my hands in the saw horse. When he's done he pulls my legs forward and secures my ankle cuff to the peg. He does the same to the other side. My hands are stretched near the ground in the front of the saw horse, and my feet are just slightly behind my hands and a few inches off the floor. 

He stands and runs his hands over my body; my legs, my ass, along my back and neck, everywhere. He leaves me there and goes back to the alcove where the electronic equipment is. He comes back a few seconds later. Kneeling down so he's face-level with me, he pulls my hair away from my ear and puts a Bluetooth device on me, then he puts one on himself. 

"There, that's better, isn't it?" He lifts me chin with a finger, forcing me to look at him. "This is called a Whipping Bench. Can you guess what it's for?"

"For whipping people?" It comes out as more of a question in my scared little voice.

He leans in and kisses my forehead, then turns my head to the side. He points to one of the little red blinking lights in the wall. "Do you see that light?" I nod my head. He stands up quickly and pain flares through my ass. Did he just spank me? He kneels down again in front of me. "I said full sentences, girl. Do you see the light?" 

"Yes, I see the light." 

"Good, I want you to keep looking at that light. I want your face in that camera at all times. Do you understand?

"Yes, you want me to keep looking at that light, that camera." I turn my head back to him. I know he might be angry, but I have to see him again. I have to. He doesn't seem mad; instead he runs his hand over my face and kisses me again on the forehead. "I'm scared." It's not a plea for him to stop. It's not expected to change what he's going to do. It's just a fact. 

"I know. I can feel the fear pouring off you. It excites me. You have absolutely no idea how submissive you are, or how much pain you can endure. Just listen to your body, your body knows what it wants. If it ever becomes too much, or it no longer excites you, we can stop. You won't know what you want, what you need, until you try it." He pauses for a bit, looking at me, seeing if I understand. "Just don't scream, it annoys me."

I turn my face back to the camera, and Dustin wipes the hair out of my face. He moves behind me and without hesitating, he starts spanking my ass. It starts out slow, more shocking than painful. Occasionally he runs his hands over my ass, feeling the heat. The pace increases; left, right, left, left, right, left, right. My breath is coming in short gasps when I'm not whining in pain. I try to move away, but the bindings hold me tight. It's only when I try pulling against the restraints, when I try breaking them that he stops. His hands are running over my body, feeling my taut muscles. Dustin presses himself against my ass. The silky material of his pants feels rough against my red, tingling skin. 

"So sexy. So strong. Keep trying, girl. You aren't going anywhere till I'm through with you." He stays behind me for a few minutes; his touching actually becomes comforting after a while. I lay there, catching my breath, feeling his hands and the rhythm of the movement.

Soon he leaves me and goes to a cabinet. I can't see him, but I can hear it opening. I want to see what he's doing, but something deep inside me tells me that would be bad. So I wait, watching the little red blinking light. He comes back and drops stuff onto the floor in front of me, right where I can see them. One after another, he drops whips onto the floor. Whips! These don't look like the kinds in the adult stores either, these look serious.

The first is about four feet long with a single tail. The second is a little shorter but with a thicker handle, again with a single tail, except there are tufts at the end. The third is shorter yet, only about two and a half feet long, and I recognize it immediately. It's the Cat O Nine Tails that was used on stage. The multiple tails twining around it like Medusa's snakes. The fourth is a length of bamboo with leather wrapped around one end for the handle. The last one is about three feet long with a thick leather handle. The tails on this one are stiff and easily twice as thick as any of the others. Instead of twining around the handle like snakes, these stick out like spears from the handle. 

No no no no no I struggle to break the binds holding me down. I was just curious! He can't be serious, can he? Dustin lowers himself to eye level again, he's enjoying my struggle. He pulls the hair out of my face again. "Do you like my toys? I thought we could try a bunch of different implements, and see which ones make you the wettest."

He points to each whip and starts describing them to me. The first is a Signal Whip and it's very accurate. He says he can make a nice pattern across my skin with it. The second is a Galley Whip, almost the same as the Signal Whip, except the flogger at the end makes it hurt more. He's betting the third will make me the wettest, as I've already seen that one in action. The fourth and fifth he won't use unless I prove myself first. Apparently I have to beg him before he'll beat me with those. Fat chance of that! One is a rattan cane and the other is the flogger of Latigo leather. The thick hide makes for an especially painful lashing.

He picks up the first whip and holds it up for me to see. "What is this called, girl?" 

I really wasn't ready for a pop quiz. It takes me a moment to remember the name. "It's a signal whip." I mentally go through the other four whips. The cat and the cane I can remember, the other two I repeat the names a few times to myself. 

"Good girl." The compliment sends a shiver through me, how can he do that? Dustin slowly stands and moves behind me. I flinch when he runs his hands over my back. I hear him chuckling. "You'll know when this is coming, girl. I guarantee it."

I hear a loud whistle-type noise then a large CRACK right next to my ear. My body jumps, trembling, as my wide eyes seek out the sound. The whip is there; tail dangling from the handle in Dustin's hand. I can't believe I'm doing this; that I'm letting him do this. My pussy is dripping wet and a small confused part of me is eager to feel the first sting of the leather. I must be crazy.

I hear the whistle again, only this time pain sears from my shoulder down my back. My breath catches in my throat, as I silently strain against the bonds. The pain quickly dies down to a burning sensation and I gasp for breath, my whole body shaking, trapped on the whipping bench.

Dustin runs his hand down on my back, watching the mark form. A thin red line starting at my shoulder and ending in the middle of my back. He can feel my muscles straining, he can hear my short ragged breaths. "So sexy. See, that wasn't so bad. More bark than bite. You did wonderfully." Now that it's over, it was more shocking than painful. It hurt, yeah, but not as much as I thought it would. His calm, confident voice again. "Do you want more, girl?"

After a few calming breaths, I know the answer. I need more. I need to see what this is. I give him the only answer I can: "Yes." Dustin instantly reaches under me and grabs my nipple. He pulls it and pinches it hard. It takes a moment to think through the pain, but I know why he did it. I automatically try to twist away, but I'm held tight. I try to scream through clenched teeth: "Full sentences. Full sentences."

Dustin releases my nipple, and slowly runs the leather from the whip over my back. Gasping for breath, I try to form a complete sentence. "Please, do it again." He reaches under me again, grabbing the same nipple, but he doesn't pinch it this time. Desperately I squeak out before he hurts me again: "Please, whip me again. I want you to use the whip on me. Please." 

He pats me on the ass a few times. "You are going to learn to speak to me properly before the night is done. Ready? Here we go." His voice is chipper, as he positions himself behind me again.

The whipping is slow, almost casual. He never hits the same spot twice, although it feels like he hits every inch of my back. There are a few seconds before each stroke, it becomes almost rhythmic. I can hear myself grunting or moaning or whining, but it seems like it's coming from someone else. My mind gets lost in the feelings: the loss of control, the red blinking light, the inability to move, the whistle-CRACK-pain combination, the sweat trickling down my spine, the puddle forming between my legs. 

Suddenly the lashes stop and something grey lands on the floor in my field of vision. I don't recognize it until the black pants join the grey shirt on the floor. Dustin steps into me and I can feel his cock pressing against my skin. His fingers easily slipping into my pussy, opening me up. He places his cock at my entrance, and without a word slams himself deep inside me.

**********

She's absolutely delicious. Hasn't screamed. Hasn't begged. She's been groaning and hissing, which is heavenly. From the first stroke, her pussy has had a steady stream of dew dripping out of it. She hasn't said "No" or "Stop". I kept my strokes slow and even, and she adjusted surprisingly quickly. I made a perfect sunburst pattern on her back with the whip. That's more than most can handle. The thin red welts show up beautifully on her pale white back. Watching the tremors flow through her helpless body made me harder than I've been in a long time. The silent tears falling to the floor are priceless. I planned to push her more before fucking her, but I have to have her now. I can push her after.

Smiling as I imagine what she'll look and sound like under the Cat or the Cane, I strip off my clothes. I'm fucking her. I'm fucking her now. I see her body tense up as she sees my clothes pile up on the floor in front of her. She still doesn't move her head, doesn't try to look back at me. So fucking submissive.

I step behind her, and immediately my cock feels the heat pouring off her. I have to have her. I slip my fingers inside her, she's so tight. Opening her folds, I slam my cock inside her. My cock is in heaven, hot and slick heaven. She's so tight I only got about half way in, but that'll change quickly. Her loud groan is still sounding when I pull all the way out and slam back inside her. I'm almost there; another inch or two. Her groan raises a few octaves and I feel her pussy clamping down on me. Like that will keep me out. 

Pulling out again, I grab a handful of tangled red hair, pulling her head back hard, I slam into her again. All sound from her stops. Her body goes rigid, every muscle hard and tight. I watch, fascinated at the muscles in her back straining under the sunburst pattern I made there. Then I feel it. She's cumming! Her pussy is pulsating along my shaft, cum is dripping down her legs. My breathing almost stops. The feeling of her tight cunt milking my rock hard cock is almost enough to make me blow my load right then and there. Absolute ecstasy is stroking my already very large ego. My new-found submissive is a pain slut! She came in only three thrusts after her first whipping. No one does that except a pain slut. 

I pull out and start fucking her hard and fast. I need to own this pussy. I don't last long. She has a few more aftershocks that push me over the edge. Pulling her head back again, I rasp out "Are you on birth control?" I wait a few seconds, and when she doesn't answer I shake her head a few times. My voice is stronger this time. "Are you on birth control?" 

"Yes. Yes. I won't get pregnant. You can cum in me." 

**********

I'm cumming almost instantly. I have no control of my body, not like I had a lot of control lately anyway. My breath catches in my lungs. My mouth opens, but not a sound comes out. My body explodes as that huge, hard cock pounds into my pussy. Everything goes white.

I start panting as my orgasm subsides, trying to suck in enough oxygen. My body jolts against the whipping bench as Dustin keeps slamming his cock into me. In no time at all, my core starts to tingle as I can feel my body start to cum again. Not anywhere near as strong as the first one, thankfully. I don't think I would survive that.

After a few minutes my head gets jerked back by the hair. I hear something, but I'm not thinking to clearly right now. I don't know... My head gets shaken side to side. "Are you on birth control?" It's that command voice again, damn that goes right through me. On instinct, I answer the voice. I know what it wants. "Yes. Yes. I won't get pregnant. You can cum in me."

The impacts roll through my whole body as Dustin pounds even harder into my pussy. One hand is still grasping my hair, the other digging painfully into my hips. I can barely move, but I realize I can move just a little bit. I start lifting my hips to meet his powerful thrusts, and I instantly hear a groan from behind me. "Good girl." I start squeezing my pussy around his cock as my hips rise up to meet each thrust. 

It doesn't take long before Dustin slams into me and I feel his cock pulsating deep inside. Hot cum splashes into my cunt. He's rocking back and forth as he cums, filling me with his seed. When he's done, he lays down on my back, his cock slowly softening inside me. After a few minutes his cock slips out. He pushes up against my back, his cool air searing into the lash marks on my back. His voice is soft; I have to strain to hear him. "I know what you are." Without another word, he lifts himself completely off me with a grunt, pats my ass a few times, and walks out of the room. I lay there, staring at the little red blinking lights. They look blurry through my tears.

*

OK, that's part 2, now you gotta wait some more. :-)

Enjoy; please vote and comments/e-mails are always welcome. 



Just Curious



Author's note: This is a story based on Pretty Little Liars and takes place during Series 5, at which point the characters are all over 18.

*****

Hanna Marin had no idea what she was going to do. She had been going back and forth on this for months, years if she was honest with herself, but most of all since she woke up with the mother of all hangovers this morning with an unusually crystal clear recollection of the night before. Perhaps this was her brain trying to make her realise how important this was to her. How what she did next could ruin a friendship she treasured, or get her what she really wanted. Of course fear of rejection had kept her from dealing with the situation in the light of day, but now she was away from school she knew she had to do something.

So she sent the text and waited, just how quickly she got a response and ultimately a visitor encouraging for what she felt she had to do next. First though she faked a smile as her best friend Emily Fields poked her head through her door and asked, "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Hanna said, sitting up and crossing her legs, trying not to stare at the brunette.

Emily smiled, and with a deep breath slipped into the bedroom she used to share with the beautiful blonde and casually sat on the bed in front of Hanna like everything was normal before murmuring, "I got your text."

"Uh-huh." Hanna mumbled, searching for the right words but ultimately apologising, "I'm sorry for avoiding you today, it's just-"

"It's fine. I get it." Emily interrupted, before adding, "So, you remember last night?"

"Yeah." Hanna admitted, lowering her head.

"How much?" Emily asked nervously.

Unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes momentarily Hanna huffed, "I remember throwing myself at you and you were a total gentlewoman about it and let me down in the nicest possible way."

"You were drunk." Emily shrugged, briefly glancing down herself, "I know you didn't mean it."

There was the moment Hanna had been dreading. The moment she had been thinking about all day long, and if she was honest with herself thinking about for most of past few years. The moment she got the choice between telling Emily the truth or continuing to lie to her. Not that she had plenty of chances before, but if she was ever going to be bold now was the perfect chance as if it went really bad she could backtrack and just claimed she was confused.

So, taking a deep calming breath, Hanna looked up into Emily's eyes, that were now looking at her expectantly, and with a tiny squeak admitted, "I meant it."

There was a long pause, Emily spending most of it looking surprised, before finally she simply asked, "Really?"

"Really." Hanna confirmed weakly.

"Really?" Emily repeated a little more sceptically, before pointing out, "Because you don't sound sure."

Worried that her lack of confidence might blow this for her Hanna insisted, "I'm sure. I'm sure I'm sure. Incredibly sure. I couldn't be more sure."

Smiling softly Emily took her friend's hand and asked, "Are you positive you're not just confused?"

"No!" Hanna whined, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms, "Why would you say that?"

Emily gave Hanna a look, "I don't know Hanna, maybe because you're the most boy crazy girl I know."

"That's totally not true." Hanna protested, "Aria is way more boy crazy than me. I mean, I love her and all, but she just won't shut up about Ezra."

"Aria is crazy about one boy. You know I'm gay yet how many times have you talked to me about boys?" Emily pointed out but, before quickly backtracking, "Not that I mind, I get that it's an important part of being a best friend and all, but sometimes... I don't know, it's like you half expect me to get excited as you when discussing boys, and... boy parts."

Hanna had to pause to enjoy the cute little crinkling of Emily's nose in that last comment, then she quickly said, "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way, but just because I like boys doesn't mean I can't like you too. It's called being bi, or whatever."

Emily nodded, trying to choose her next words carefully, "So that's what you are now, bi?"

"No." Hanna admitted, quickly adding, "I kind of think I'm just gay for you. Which is totally a thing, I looked it up."

There was another pause, then Emily mumbled, "Are, are you sure this isn't just some kind of jealousy over Alison?"

Rolling her eyes and asked, "What did she tell you?"

"Nothing." Emily briefly lied, before admitting, "She said you were going through the stereotypical acting out phase, and unless I wanted to become part of that I should shoot you down if you ever find the courage to make a move on me. Her words, not mine."

"Yeah, well she told me that I should hurry up and get rejected by you, because there was no way someone like you would stoop to being a straight girl's lesbo phase." Hanna grumbled, before quickly adding, "Her words, not mine, and are not true. You're not just a phase for me."

"And yet you're saying this now because Alison pissed you off, not because you actually want me." Emily said sadly.

"No!" Hanna insisted, and then when Emily gave her a look admitted, "Ok, kind of, but I've been thinking about this since I first found those pictures of you and Maya making out, and this whole time Alison has been back I haven't been bothered about losing my identity or about whether we can trust her... ok, maybe those things as well, but mostly I can't stand how she tortured you with your sexuality and now she gets to have you just because she claims she meant it. She didn't Emily. She's a liar, and a manipulator, and, and... and why did she get all your attention? I'm right here. She doesn't deserve you Ems."

"You still sound fixated on her." Emily pointed out.

"I'm not, it's just..." Hanna began angrily, before scooting closer, "I'm worried about you. I don't trust her, but I care about you way more than I do her. I, I like you way more than I hate her. Which isn't easy for me to say, alright? Emily, you may have always known what you are, and the way you came out... and stayed strong, it was inspiring. But I didn't want to lose you, and I saw how happy you were with Maya and then Paige, and I didn't want to get in the way of that. But now, what? Ali returns and she's right back to playing hot and cold with you, Caleb's gone, and... and I just think about how much fun we have together, you know? How everything feel so easy-"

"I don't think relationships are supposed to be easy." Emily interrupted.

"No, not all the time, but they shouldn't be what we currently have." Hanna argued, "And... and I think about you. You and me together. You know, kissing and stuff. And... I really, really like it. And I've liked it for years, I... I just couldn't find the words to tell you."

Emily took a deep sigh, and then softly said, "You get this is out of the blue, right?"

"Not for me." Hanna argued.

"Well it is for me." Emily said a little louder than she intended, softening her tone as she got off the bed, "And I just, I just think we both need some time to really think about this and what we both want."

"No Emily!" Hanna cried out, rushing off the bed and cutting Emily off. This clearly annoyed her friend, so Hanna quickly tried to justify it, "I'm sorry Em, but... I can already see Alison getting her hooks into you, and I don't want to give her more of a chance to get... well, you. She doesn't deserve you Ems. I could cope with you ending up with Maya, or Paige, or that hot blonde you dated for like a week, but not her. Anyone but her."

"There you go again, making this about her." Emily sighed, "You're the one who's been going off the rails lately Hanna, how can I believe this isn't part of that?"

"Let me prove it to you." Hanna pleaded, stepping forward and adopting a more seductive tone, "Let me prove to you that this is real. That I want you. That the only reason I keep bringing up Alison is because I'm jealous of her, because she's had something I've always wanted, and yet after all these years she's still treating it like crap."

Honestly Emily was at least a little flattered by those words, and her body couldn't escape the fact a hot girl was coming onto her, but she had to remain firm, "Hanna, we're best friends. I'm closer to you than I am with anyone, even Spencer and Aria. I don't want to ruin that by taking advantage of you like this."

"It's not taking advantage." Hanna whined, "Ok, Ali coming back from the dead more manipulative and bitchy than ever has me a little rattled, but I'm completely sober and I thought this through. I have! Ok? And if you're worried about making things weird between us, I kind of screw that up for us already. Although, after everything we've been through, I don't see how a little weirdness could ruin our friendship. And I'm sorry, I was never good at math, but I don't see how adding sex to the equation is a bad thing."

Emily's eyes went wide, "Sex?"

"Yeah, sex." Hanna frowned, before a grin crossed her face, "Wait, what did you think I was implying?

"I don't know, like... maybe just kissing and a little light groping." Emily shrugged.

"Well, Ali already did way more than that, and I'm more than up for it." Hanna grinned again as she stepped closer, "And like I said, I don't see the downside. There is gonna be weirdness between us no matter what, probably more if you reject me twice in 24 hours than if you'd just fucked me, and even if I was just curious, which I'm not, so what? I'd get to satisfy a curiosity, and you'd get laid. What's so bad about that?"

Hanna logic, Emily silently grumbled from moment, it might not be tactful, but it made a lot of sense, "I... I don't know Han."

"Please Emily. You don't even have to do anything, just lay back and I'll do all the work. Trust me, I've done a lot of research, and I think I can make you cum." Hanna pleaded, "Please Em? I don't think my self-esteem can take being turned down by a lesbian when I'm begging to eat her out."

Despite herself Emily laughed, which was probably the worst thing she could have done.

"Great, the idea of me being enough for you is comical. That's just, wow." Hanna mumbled bitterly.

"No Hanna, it isn't like that." Emily argued.

Not even registering the response Hanna continued, "I mean, I know I'm not Alison DeLaurentis hot, but you told me yourself you don't exactly have a type, and I thought maybe, just maybe-"

Before Hanna could spiral any further Emily let out a tiny cry of frustration and then kissed her. Hard. And it felt wonderful. The Goldilocks of kisses, not too hard, not too soft, and when Emily gently pushed her tongue into Hanna's mouth and massaged the blonde's it wasn't too much tongue, and it wasn't too little. It was all just right. Perfect, Hanna's arms automatically wrapping around the wonderfully soft body now pressed against her own, which she could feel herself practically melting into as time ceased to matter. Honestly Hanna wasn't sure how long that perfect kiss went on for, just when it was finally broken Emily moved to her neck, kissing the soft flesh there in such a way which made her toes curl, and she found herself on her back.

If that wasn't overwhelming enough Emily then whispered in her ear, "How about I go first?"

Still in a daze Hanna could only respond with, "Huh?"

"During my first time with Maya it helped that she went first. It really relaxed me, you know?" Emily explained.

"Oh." Hanna nodded with understanding, "Ok."

Emily smiled, gave her another one of those perfect kisses in which she unbuttoned Hanna's shirt and then removed it almost without her knowledge. She even had Hanna's skirt halfway down her thighs when she finally had to break the kiss, the blonde watching in a happy daze as the brunette then effortlessly removed the skirt and socks before stripping herself down to her underwear. Then Emily stood there for a few seconds smiling down at her, and in that moment Hanna was sure she wasn't 100% straight. Then again, how could anyone not be attracted to a underwear wearing Emily Fields?

Seeing the look of confusion on Hanna's face Emily asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Huh, what? YES! Yes I'm sure, sure I'm sure." Hanna quickly said, before clarifying her expression, "I'm just... in awe of you."

"I know the feeling." Emily blushed, briefly glancing down before shyly admitting, "I just, don't want to lose you, you know?"

"Hey, come here." Hanna beckoned Emily to her, the blonde try not to get too distracted by the brunette obediently crawling on top of her so when they were face to face she could calmly tell her, "There's nothing you could do which would drive me away. This is just... upgrading. Now please, fuck me. Make me cum for you and prove I'm not just curious."

For a few seconds Emily just stared at her friend, studying the seriousness in her face and in her voice as she played those last few words back in her head. Also she enjoyed savouring these words and feeling the nearly naked Hanna Marin under her equally nearly nude form. Then she kissed Hanna again, and then return to her neck before finally descending into untouched territory. Or at least untouched for her, Emily's hands trembling a little as with practised ease she reached behind a smooth back, unhooked a bra and pulled away from another girl's body, leaving her with the sight of Hanna's full C-cup breasts exposed to her hungry mouth.

Emily didn't really have a preference when it came to a body type, provided that body was female of course. But of all her lovers, or more accurately all the girls she made out with, Hanna by far had the best tits Emily had ever seen. They were so round and full and perky, with these suck-able little nipples which looked like they were rockhard already. As soon as she saw them she couldn't help but latch onto one of those nipples, Emily sucking almost ravenously at first while Hanna moaning arched her back into the touch. This both filled Emily with confidence and reminded her that she needed to go slow.

So, somewhat reluctantly, Emily decreased the power of her suction. This made Hanna whimper in disappointment, although Emily made it up to her by adding her tongue into the mix, swirling it around the other girl's nipples clockwise and anticlockwise in a way which made Hanna moan happily. Then Emily switch to the other nipple, slowly making her way there by kissing the full surrounding flesh of those boobs, at one point burying her face in between them just to get a giggle out of Hanna. Then she reached her destination and started licking and sucking one of her friend's nipples again, and Hanna quickly forgot the playfulness in favour of practically crying out with joy again.

Becoming completely lost in this Emily went back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, then she heard Hanna whimper, "Emily, please... lower... I need you to, ohhhhhhhh Gooooooddddddd!"

Sensing the desperation in Hanna's voice Emily quickly kissed her way down the blonde's soft but flat stomach, the brunette briefly marvelling at how much Hanna had changed from the chubby kid she had met so long ago. Then she was at her destination, and gently tugging her best friend's little panties down her thighs, Hanna lifting first her butt and then her legs so that Emily could remove her last item of clothing. Emily then return to the position she'd had to leave momentarily to remove Hanna's underwear, her eyes devouring her prize, which included both Hanna Marin's whole body and specifically the treasure in between her thighs. 

Emily then looked up at the other teen, giving her best friend one last chance to back out, only for Hanna to whimper, "Please..."

Caleb had liked it when Hanna talked dirty, and she was totally willing to do that for Emily. It was just that her mouth was dry and she was totally overwhelmed by the situation. But she was totally going to do it. It was just that before she could get anything else out Emily leaned forward, stuck out her tongue and slid it over Hanna's pussy lips, causing the blonde to forget whatever it was she was going to say. She also forgot everything else, including her own name for a while, her whole world revolving around that soft little tongue gently licking her pussy.

That's soft little girl tongue. That soft little tongue which belonged to another girl. Another girl was licking her pussy. She was having lesbian sex with her lesbian friend, that friend making her feel such intense pleasure already and they had only just started. Hanna hadn't even been penetrated yet, and her clit barely got touched in those first few licks. In fact when her lesbian friend did start lingering on that sensitive bundle of nerves Hanna found herself crying out extra loudly, grabbing onto a handful of brunette hair and pushing the other girl deeper into her cunt. Pushing Emily deeper into her cunt. She was pushing Emily Fields, a girl who had been nothing but a true friend to her, deeper into her cunt, and it felt so good.

Whatever guilt Hanna felt from this rough treatment, and for not going first like she initially promised, was currently being overwhelmed by her selfish need for pleasure. But she knew for a fact that Emily loved eating pussy. Hanna had basically had to force that out of her during a long night chatting, at the time Hanna claiming she was just curious and she over shared all the time so it was no big deal, but she was really sure Emily wasn't lying to her.

It certainly seemed like Emily had been truthful, the other 18-year-old girl not only tonguing her twat with even more enthusiasm than before but actually adding her mouth into the mix, Hanna's eyes literally rolling back in her head when she felt Emily's soft lips, which had felt so wonderful against her own a short while ago, wrap around another pair of lips and begin sucking. Sucking the pussy juice right out of her, Hanna shivering in the knowledge that was exactly what was happening. That her best friend in the whole entire world was literally drinking her essence, and showing such enthusiasm while doing it that it was intoxicating.

Emily certainly found Hanna's pussy intoxicating. In fact intoxicating didn't seem a strong enough word for how completely obsessed Emily Fields became with Hanna Marin's delicious cunt, the brunette incredibly grateful that the blonde quickly pushed her face as deep as it would go into her sex because it saved her the trouble. The only reason Emily hadn't done so herself before then was because she was worried about scaring Hanna off. Hence why she was still going slowly, even though she somewhat doubted Hanna would stop her now she might still freak out later, which was the last thing Emily wanted.

Of course it was hard enough for her to maintain a semblance of control when she was just lapping away at the treat in front of her. Now that she had her mouth glued to Hanna's cunt, that heavenly cream pretty much pouring directly down her throat, it was agonising not to make her best friend cum so she could receive the liquid she craved above all others and had become addicted to ever since the first time Maya had cum in her mouth. At the very least she could get even more of Hanna's delicious pussy cream, Emily almost having to dig her nails into her friend's sides to stop herself from losing control.

It would be so easy for her to make Hanna cum right now. All she had to do was linger a little more on her clit or shove her tongue directly into the other teen's twat and Emily was sure she would have a mouthful of girl cum in no time. And yet, she didn't do that. Partly because dragging this out would mean she got more pussy cream overall, but mostly this was for Hanna's benefit. After all, the longer she dragged this out the harder Hanna would ultimately cum, and whatever the other girl's sexual orientation Emily wanted to make this the best experience possible for Hanna.




Just Curious



However Emily was now almost 100% sure Hanna Marin wasn't straight. Her best friend's body was responding to her better than Emily could have possibly hoped, suggesting not only that Hanna was not simply bi-curious but may in fact be a closet lesbian. And if Hanna was, regardless of whether they ended up together, Emily wanted to give her the best first time possible. Which yes, she would do anyway, but it would mean so much more if Hanna really was a lesbian and this was her first time. And if she was bi, well then Emily would prove to her that at least when it came to eating pussy girls were way better than boys.

As far as Hanna was concerned Emily had already proven that. True, she didn't have a ton of experience with guys or girls, in fact it was just Caleb and he had only done it a couple of times, but Emily had totally blown him out of the water. And the crazy part was it felt like Emily was holding back the entire time, Hanna actually a little afraid to ask her friend to give her everything she's got because what she was already receiving seemed to be melting her mind. If Emily really started trying it might destroy her, but as time passed and those wonderful licks made Hanna increasingly desperate to cum destruction seemed like it would be worth it.

Hanna wasn't even sure she could get out the right words in the right order to ask for more, the blonde pulling one of her pillows over her face as a series of incoherent jargon and swear words fell out of her mouth. She also wanted to keep her moans, groans, whimpers and cries as soft as possible so her Mom wouldn't hear them. Partly because it would be embarrassing, but mostly because her Mom might ask Emily to leave, and Hanna couldn't bear the thought of that. At least not until the other girl made her cum, the thought that that was what she so desperately wanted right now making her blush.

"Ems, please... I need... I need to cum. Ooooooooh Goooooodddddddd, I need you to make me cum. Ohhhhhhhhh please Em, make me cum, make me-" Hanna finally whispered, then her eyes went wide, then when tents before she relaxed as the most wonderful feeling of euphoria washed over her.

Luckily she had the presence of mind to take the pillow she had slightly removed from her face enough to clearly whisper those words and shove it so hard against her face that she couldn't breathe properly. That was the only way she could even hope to contain her screams of pleasure as for the first time in her life Hanna came in another girl's mouth. Hanna came in one of her best friends' mouths, the friend she was most closest to making her cum harder than her boyfriend ever had by a mile.

The entire time she could feel her best friend Emily Fields sucking the cum out of her and greedily gulping it down, that overwhelming fact on top of all the other overwhelming fact making Hanna cum over, and over, and over again. There were other reasons for those orgasms, but Hanna was barely aware of them. All Hanna really knew was that she was in heaven, and she had been wasting so much time. All that time she had been trying to make it work Caleb, she could have been with Emily, feeling this life changing pleasure. It was a mistake she didn't want to make again.

Emily had loved the way Hanna tasted from the very first lick, but as with the case with every other girl she had gone down on pussy cream didn't compare to girl cum, and thus Hanna's cum was the greatest thing she'd ever tasted. The second it hit her taste buds she became a woman possessed, Emily pressing her mouth as firmly as possible over Hanna's cunt and frantically gulping down the heavenly liquid which escaped from it, the lesbian teen refusing to miss a single drop.

That first time she succeeded, and the second, and the third, Emily ramming her tongue harder than ever into Hanna and fucking her friend with it until she got another mouthful of heaven. On that fourth time she hadn't removed her tongue fast enough, and had accidentally hit Hanna's G-spot on the way out which made the blonde buck upwards, smashing the brunette's face and disorientating Emily momentarily. It was long enough for her to get a face full of girl cum, and while that was enjoyable Emily cursed herself for not being able to swallow everything her friend had to give her.

Switching tactics Emily rammed two fingers inside her friend and fucked her with them to the next climax, replacing them with her mouth just in time to get every drop of the fifth orgasm. So she repeated that for a little while, keeping her mouth and tongue busy by sucking and licking Hanna's clit. Of course, perhaps inevitably, she couldn't resist just keeping her fingers inside Hanna for an orgasm or two, just so she would know the sensation of Hanna Marin squeezing down on her fingers when she came. Just in case this was a one time thing.

No, Emily decided. This couldn't just be a one time thing. Hanna just tasted too good to be wasted on a man, who would probably spend the whole time shoving his dick into her and not sampling this heavenly treat. Besides, she was making Hanna cum so hard, and so easily, Emily was convinced that her best friend was a lesbian just like her. She had to be. She had to show Hanna Marin that she was a lesbian, Emily's sex crazed mind becoming so obsessed with that mission that she finger and tongue fucked her best friend to countless orgasms, constantly switching tactics to make sure the climaxes were that much more intense.

"No, stop." Hanna whimpered softly.

Eyes wide with fright Emily looked up at her best friend and asked, "Hanna, what's wrong?"

"It's, it's too much." Hanna whined, "I just, I just can't cum anymore."

With a wicked smile crossing her face Emily told her friend, "Yes you can, I believe in you Han."

"No." Hanna whimpered again.

"Just one more, please?" Emily begged, "I know I can make you cum again. I just know it."

"I don't doubt it." Hanna softly laughed, "But if you do I'm not going to be able to return the favour."

"So don't." Emily shrugged, "I don't mind. Getting to please you is enough for me."

That was really tempting. Extremely tempting, Hanna's entire body aching for her to just lay back and let Emily Fields do what she apparently does best. Because seriously, no wonder Emily was such a ladies girl, she was amazing at lesbian sex. But Hanna had to focus on not being selfish. She just had too. Because she refused to receive such an amazing experience without returning any of it.

"Just once." Hanna offered weakly, "Just let me make you cum once, then you can do whatever you want."

Emily just stared at her for a few long seconds, clearly debating this, then the brunette effortlessly unhooked her bra and pushed down her panties before painfully slowly she crawled up the blonde's body until they were face to face, her boobs pressing into Hanna's again and so wonderfully. Most of her sweaty body was pressed against her own, but it was particularly their boobs and their rock hard nipples that Hanna focused on. For a few seconds at least, then Emily gently took her right hand and pushed her index and middle finger into her mouth, sucking those digits slowly and erotically. Then Emily guided Hanna's hands down to her extremely wet womanhood.

Not needing to be told Hanna immediately started rubbing, Emily initially scolding her for being too rough but she quickly slowed down to a steady rhythm and then built up the pace to pretty much what it was before. The difference was the little squeaks and cries that Emily was letting out was now of pure pleasure, Hanna convinced that she could make her lesbian friend just with this simple act. And she was pretty sure that was Emily's intention, her sweet friend not pushing her to do anything else. And it was tempting, but after what Emily had just done for her, it just wasn't enough in Hanna's opinion.

"HANNA! Oh-" Emily began crying out, only to be silenced by Hanna's lips.

Hanna then thrust her tongue into Emily's mouth just like she'd shoved her fingers into her pussy, the blonde trying not to focus on the fact that she was finger banging her best friend because rather than putting her off it pushed Hanna even further to another climax, and that wasn't acceptable. Not until she made Emily cum. Luckily that proved to be easy, Hanna grinning in triumph as she felt the other girl trembling against her, and quivering around her fingers, the knowledge that she just made her experienced lesbian best friend cum for her overwhelming.

It wasn't the strongest orgasm Emily had ever had, but it was intensely satisfying, and a mind trip rivalling her first time with Maya and the first time with Ali. Not wanting to dwell on the lover she had lost to a psychopath or the one that kept jerking her around Emily focused on Hanna. Dear, sweet, wonderful if a little dim Hanna Marin, the inexperienced girl who had just made her cum. Her best friend had just made her cum, Emily still quivering around her closest friend's finger as she was overwhelmed by the need to fuck this girl into unconsciousness.

Ultimately it was not that hard a task. All it took was little more attention on Hanna's clit and the blonde went from smugly kissing and fingering her back to just lying there and whimpering into her mouth as Emily took complete control over her and the situation. Then there was just a few more thrusts, and then Hanna was cumming again, and again, and again, and then the kiss was broken as the intensity just became too much for the poor blonde.

After that Emily gently pulled her fingers from Hanna's cunt and then put them up to her mouth to suck some cleaning. She then mirrored the process by guiding Hanna's hand out of her and to her lips, Emily acting even more cautious as not to awaken the sleeping beauty. Then scooped as much girl cum and pussy cream from her face and put it into her mouth. Then when there was no more of that, and because she just couldn't resist, Emily used her tongue to clean Hanna's pussy. She wasn't proud of particularly the last thing, but Emily just couldn't help it. Hanna tasted so good.

Then, as her libido faded, Emily remembered what a mistake this could be if Hanna turned out to be the prototypical straight girl who was just curious what it would be like to experiment. She loved Hanna, maybe more than she ever realised, and staring down at her beautiful face looking so peaceful Emily really wanted for this to be something other than sex. Then again, she'd just settle for remaining friends with this wonderful girl.



Just Curious and Horny



I just decided to do what I was curious about for so long, yet I wasn't certain how to proceed...

I enjoy the sight of a nice ass. It's a real turn on for me! Each is different in every way. I also like to explore between those rounded globes while laying behind the person who is laying on their stomach and enjoyong my every move.

Two friends, Lisa and Gregg, helped me to fulfill that curiousity. Each at a different time.

Lisa is a pretty girl with long brown hair and lush lips. Everything about her was soft and beautiful. She has a cute ass too! It's not real big, but not tiny either.

Gregg had the type of ass that catches one's eye and interest. His butt shape was well pronunced when wearing his tight jeans. He was handsome and fit too.

Now...I wasn't certain how either one would handle my particular interest in their asses. I decided not to ask. I came up with an idea.

I invited Lisa over one afternoon and decided that she and I would enjoy some time at home for a change. We both drink, but she drinks a bit more then I do. Lisa showed up wearing shorts that were loose about the leg openings. At times I could see her bush protuding from those leg openings. I was able to see the lower portion of her ass cheeks too. My cock was starting to stir. I knew that I was wet with pre-cum. I could feel it in my pants.

After a few hours Lisa was well on her way to feeling no pain. I had a buzz and it wasn't just the alcohol ;-)

I asked if I could massage her back. She had no problem with that! As she laid herself out on the floor I was looking right up her shorts. Wow! My cock was hardening at the sight of those sweet cheeks partially protruding out from under her short shorts. I was going to check it out one or the other. But how? 

As I straddled her legs and began to massage her back, my cock got really hard! As I leaned forward I'm certain that she could feel that hardness through my jeans. She didn't say a word. It all felt great!

I continued rubbing her shoulders and upper back and began moving down to my desired target. As I rubbed her lower back I could feel the wetness in my pants increase. The pre-cum was flowing and my desire was driving me wild!

I ran my hands over her shorts and could feel those firm buns waiting to be pleasured. Lisa pushed up slightly as my hands passed over her ass. It was a signal to me that it was okay with her that I was now working that lovely ass of hers. There was a sigh...I could also see a wet spot where her pussy is.

I placed my hands under the leg openings of the shorts and began massaging her bare butt. She had no panties on! I allowed a couple of my fingers to slide down into her butt crack and across her rose bud. She was now pushing into my hand once again and I about shot my load experiencing what was happening! I removed my hand and sniffed the fingers...

That was it! No asking! I removed my hands and placed my fingers into her waist band. I pulled her shorts down and stopped just below her ass cheeks. What a sight! To nicely shaped globes and a slint that ran the full length! I had to have her. It was the first time too.

I laid down on my stomach between her slightly spread legs and placed a hand upon each of her ass cheeks. They were so smooth and firm...warm to the touch. As I spread them apart, I was greeted by that rose bud I had touched a moment earlier. I just stared for a while. Nice I sighed.

Now my curiousity took over...I had to know her scent better, so I placed my nose between her cheeks at the opening and began to sniff her. It was more then I could bare! I shot my load in my pants as I continued to sniff her. 

I told Lisa that her scent had sent me over the edge. She responded by pushing her ass into my face. My nose was right on her...that very private spot! She said that it felt good feeling the breath from my nose across her hole. She also liked the fact that someone was showing an interest in other parts of her body too. So nasty, but feels so good!

My mouth was at her pussy. I decided to double our pleasure. I began to lick her. My tongue was in and out of her pussy while my nose remained on her ass hole. Lisa was in seventh heaven! So was I.

It was an experience I hope to have again with Lisa and others.

Later my mind was thinking about Gregg...what would that be like and how would I accomplish that? Would it be the same?



Just Curious Ch. 01



(This one started out as a few sex scenes to fight writers block. Then I strung them together into a story, so there are several perspective changes throughout the story. I apologize for that. The story got a little bit darker than I intended it to, but I was writing again and I went with it. So, it is what it is. Enjoy!)

It had been three weeks of hell. My supervisor Jared, coworker Dan and I had crunched three months' worth of work into three hectic, stressful, sleepless weeks. I was exhausted, proud, ecstatic and numb all at the same time. Toward the end, it was Jared's promise of margaritas that kept me going. Jared was as frazzled as we were and told us we'd get Friday as a paid vacation day if we pulled this off, and he'd take us out for drinks on Thursday; the day after our presentation. 

Jared is a 55 yr old balding, frumpy dressing, fun as hell guy. At 31, Dan is a bit older than me. He's just less than 6 ft tall and completely Irish: red hair, freckles, the works. No accent though, bummer. At 29, I am the youngest of the group, and the only woman. I'm a tall, athletic redhead with blond highlights. We've been working together for almost six years. We're friends in and out of the office. 

The presentation on Wednesday went off without a hitch; $275 million dollars were in the bag. We walked out of the meeting together and literally breathed a sigh of relief. After work, I went home, took a shower and went to bed around 6PM. I was out like a light. I felt 200% better the next day. Work was routine, mostly catching up on three week old e-mails and getting congratulated by higher-ups that we hardly ever saw otherwise. I was still looking forward to going out and just relaxing tonight. 

I was thinking about my margaritas when Jared sheepishly walked into my office. He quietly sat in the chair in front of my desk and waited for me to acknowledge him. This was bad. Jared is always talking and walking. I knew something was up, but had no idea what it was. So I had to ask.

"Yes?" I drawled out, clearly suspicious.

"So, umm, you know how I said, umm, you know, about the drinks tonight?" Jared stammered out, before stopping suddenly and looking around my office, refusing to make eye contact. 

It takes a moment for my brain to translate the hidden meaning behind all the stuttering. "You're blowing us off!! What happened?" I was a bit pissed now. We had been planning this for, well, forever it seemed. I was looking forward to just relaxing and soothing over the strain the last three weeks had put on the friendship between the three of us. 

"No. No. No. It's not canceled, maybe just ... relocated. Well, umm, Dan's brother is in town tonight." Jared was fumbling for words again. "Just the one night, you see. A layover between flights, and he wants to go to this one...place."

I stare at him, not quite comprehending, until it suddenly dawns on me: "You're going to a strip club! You want to 'RE-LO-CATE' our victory celebration to a STRIP CLUB! How am I supposed to enjoy my drinks with skanky, naked women grinding against a pole?"

Jared glances quickly at the open office door. "No. No. No. It's not a strip club. Keep your voice down." He glances around again. "It's a... umm... a private club...umm...of sorts." 

I know he's beating around the bush. There's something going on. I am not a happy girl. "Jared, just spit it out. I'm not in the mood for games. Just tell me already."

He looks around one last time, and in a whisper, he says: "It's a BDMS club. Very exclusive. Very private. Very classy. No poles. I promise." He looks at me expectantly, not sure how I'll react.

I just stare at him for a moment, processing the information. "Like ... whips and chains and stuff?"

"No. No. No. We'll stay in the main room; just a big room with lots of tables." He pauses, thinking how to word this. "BDSM is more like one partner is dominant, and the other is submissive. And it's Thursday, so it won't be crowded." As an afterthought, he adds: "They make great margaritas, homemade, no premade mixes"

I stare at him again. I suddenly realize I don't care. I'm usually willing to try new things, why not this? I don't have a whole lot of experience with guys, but I wouldn't consider myself a prude. And this would be something I might never get to see again. I didn't even know a club like this existed. 

"Fine. I'll go. But the three of you are buying me drinks all night long. [pause] And paying for my cab fare home. [pause] And making sure nothing BDSMish happens to me." I think I covered all the important bases.

"Absolutely. You'll love it. We'll make sure nothing happens to you. You'll love it." He's rambling as he's backing out of my office. That doesn't instill a lot of confidence in me, but I already said I'd go. 

The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly; I've caught up on most of the e-mails and neglected work. I'm ready for a long weekend. I head home at 5, eat some supper, shower and change for the evening. I pick a white/blue halter-top type dress, with some silver jewelry. I put on some minimal make-up, and head for the door. I type the address Jared gave me into the GPS, take a long, deep breath, and head out to meet the guys.

At 7:30 I am questioning both Jared and the GPS gods. I am driving around the old factory district. I drive through row after row, street after street of identical 1 or 2-story abandoned brick factories. Some have big windows, some have small window, and most have broken windows. I turn left, still questioning where I'm going, onto yet another street of abandoned factories. My destination is ¾ of a mile straight ahead. 

The outside is similar to the other factories, except it's the only three story factory in the area. There are no windows at all on the first two floors, broken or otherwise, but the third floor seems to have a lot darkened windows. I don't see any cars, so I pull over to the side of the street and wait. Jared shows up a few minutes later with Dan and his brother Brian following in a car behind his. He pulls up next to my car, and tells me to follow Dan. I wait for him and Dan to pull ahead, laughing when Brian waves at me from the passenger seat like a four year old child. At the end of the three story factory, Jared pulls up to a tall, iron gate. A few moments later the gate slides open and all three cars pull in to an alley. The alley follows the entire length of the factory, and ends in a large parking lot completely surrounded by brick walls.

I take a deep breath, and climb out of the car, and I'm instantly pounced on by Brian. Brian is a bit bulkier than Dan, but has the same exact coloring, right down to the light brown eyes. "Hey honey! Long time no see."

I'm laughing as I try to extricate myself from the bear hug. "It's been forever, Boo-Boo." He's hated that name ever since I caught him watching the Honey Boo Boo TV show at one of Dan's birthday B-B-Q's. 

"You are so evil. You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" 

"Nope. Never." We both start laughing as the other two men join us.

"Is everybody ready?" Jared asks before turning and leading the way to a large black door in the back of the building. 

Dan, Brian, and I grab each other's arms, and start skipping after Jared in a very sad Wizard of Oz impersonation. We stop behind Jared as he shows his membership card to the bouncer just inside the door. The bouncer nods, and hands Dan, Brian and I bright yellow bracelets. He waits while we put them on, and then opens an inner door into what can only be described as a ballroom. The ceiling is easily 20-30 feet high. Wrought iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, with matching electric wall sconces evenly spaced along the walls. There is a large black topped bar along one wall, and an equally large black stage set up in one corner. There are booths and tables and even sofas spread out in this extravagant room. 

"WOW" was all I could say.

**********

He glances at the security monitors; a trio of cars pulling into the parking lot was enough to catch his eye. He watches to see if it might be trouble. He worked hard to keep this place below the radar, and he's going to keep it that way. He sees one of his members getting out of the lead car, but quickly focuses on the man sprinting out of the second car. He doesn't recognize him, or the woman getting the flamboyant hug. 

He sits up straight in his chair. The two men are standing by the woman, arm-in-arm, and she's at least a few inches taller than either of them. Strong legs, from what he can tell in the monitor, strong arms, and perfect looking tits. He wants to run down to check her out in person, instead he picks up the phone and tells his bouncer at the door to let them in: members aren't allowed to bring in more than two guests at a time. Then he makes another call to the bartender.

He decides to sit and watch her for a while.

**********

I'm still looking around as Jared and the boys head for the bar. When I notice they're gone, I follow behind them, touching the tables, the cushioned captain chairs, the engravings, even the plants; real plants in a bar! I just wander toward the bar, enjoying the sights, sounds, the whole experience. 

I see the boys putting their ID's back in their wallets. The bartender is looking at me expectantly, so I pull out my ID and hand it to him. After checking it over, he hands it back with a smile and starts making the drinks Jared has already ordered. We grab our drinks and head over to one of the tables as the bartender pulls out his cell phone.

There are maybe a dozen other couples in the hall. Some are sitting together, others are off by themselves. I take a long drink from my margarita. It's as good as Jared said it would be. Then the reminiscing begins. We catch up with Brian, and then the jokes and dirty stories start to roll. We're laughing and drinking and just being friends again. The guys take turns ordering rounds, and my margaritas happily keep coming. More people are trickling in, most stop to say hello to Jared and check out the three new people. Jared makes it a point to introduce me as 'just a friend from work'. Everyone seems kind of...normal.

I ask Jared how he got to be a member of this place.

"Do you remember Marjorie? I dated her for almost a year." I nodded my head. I vaguely remember her as it was just about the time I transferred into Jared's dept. "She was a bit on the 'kinky' side. I think she was my mid-life crisis. You know? Some guys go on safari, some get a sports car; I got a kinky, submissive, nymphomaniac." The whole table erupts in laughter. I think Brian even had tears in his eyes.

"Anyway, she wanted to get more submissive, like official collaring. I just wasn't that into it. I mean the sex was great, but I guess I'm old-fashioned. I like my women to be my equal." Again we all burst out laughing. "I did like this place, though. Expensive as all hell to join, but I have nothing else to spend my money on, so I stayed a member."

**********

I got her name and address from Harper, the bartender. As soon as he called, I googled her. Single, 30ish, hasn't been in any legal trouble, works at the same company as Jared. FaceBook was a bit more interesting. I couldn't see everything on her page, but the profile picture was delicious. She has a beautiful face, flawless skin, bluish eyes, and a smile that lights up her face. I definitely need to meet this girl.

The main room is starting to fill up, well...fill up for a Thursday. Maybe it's time to make the rounds. There should be a show or two tonight.

**********

The lights start to flicker. I look around and Jared points to the stage. There is some shuffling as all the couples shift their chairs to get a better view, but soon the hall quiets down. The chandelier lights dim down as the lights on the stage come to life. I hear a man talking to Jared. I turn to look at him, but it's too dark to see much more than an outline. I turn back to the stage just as a sad young woman walks out onto the stage, followed by a nicely dressed man. She is completely nude. 

I turn back to Jared. "She's naked!"

The shadow man has sat himself down across the table from me. He answers coyly; "It's a show. Those are both members." 

The man stops before the woman does. The woman continues to the front of the stage. She starts talking, but it's too soft for us to hear. The man tells her "Louder." She looks back at him and starts over. 

"I have disobeyed my Master. I was tasked to stay out of the sun, to keep my skin pale for him. With my Masters permission, I went out last Saturday with my sister to celebrate her birthday. During lunch I took off my hat and long sleeved shirt. My neck, shoulders, and back were exposed to the sun. 

"I have disobeyed my Master. I failed to please him. I am here today to accept any punishment he decides for me and to beg for his forgiveness." She then lowers her head and the whole room waits silently.

I turn to look at Jared, and I see the shadow man staring at me. "What's going to happen?"

A shadow of a smile plays across his face. "She's going to accept her masters punishment, then beg for his forgiveness."

I try to figure out if he's joking or not, but no words come into my mind, so I turn back around to watch the stage. The man has walked up behind the woman. "It seems appropriate that the punishment for allowing her skin to redden against my wishes is to redden it myself." He takes a handful of the woman's hair and pulls her head back until she is looking at him. He whispers some words to her that no one else can hear, and she nods, tears forming in her eyes.

He takes a step back, and he has a whip in his hand. It's maybe 3 feet long with several strands on the end of it. I look back to the shadow man. He is still watching me. "Is he going to hit her? With ... that?" 

The man nods. "That whip is called a 'Cat O Nine Tails'. Scott is very familiar with its use. He won't break her skin; just make her scream a little." He is smiling again.

My eyes are wide, shocked. "Do you have one of those cat whips?"

He laughs quietly. "I have many types of whips, including the Cat O Nine Tails, and I am very familiar with their use. I know which ones cause women to whimper, and which ones cause them to scream."

I am startled by a loud CRACK. My head spins around to see the woman bent over the back of a wooden chair, her head and arms are on the seat. The man is drawing back the whip. His face is set, emotionless. I watch his arm rise up, the ends of the whip entwining like serpents. As if in slow-motion, I watch his arm come back down. The ends bite into the woman's ass. She cries out, but does not move from her position on the chair. I am transfixed. I watch as the whip lands on her ass, thighs, and back. I listen to her yelps, her moans, and her cries. I watch as tears run down her face. And the whole time my pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Each crack of the whip shoots through my body, electrifying me. I can't take me eyes off the scene on the stage.

The man stops and runs his hand over the woman's back. He leans over and whispers to her again. It seems like he is soothing her, comforting her. Eventually she tries to stand. The man steps back and watches her struggle. She stands, shaking before him, then drops to her knees and begs forgiveness. Her head resting on his shoes, over and over she begs him to forgive her.

"You are forgiven, slut. Now, take care of your masters needs." 

The girl seems relieved as her hands reach up to the man's pants and quickly opens them. She pulls out his cock, and in one swift motion, swallows it.

I look back at the shadow man. He's still watching me. I know my face is flushed, but I hope he can't see that in the dark. What the hell is wrong with me? I turn back to watch the scene on the stage. The woman is kneeling, her hands crossed behind her back. She's swallowing all of the man's cock, over and over. How does she do that? Occasionally she pulls off long enough to lick and suck his balls, before going right back to her blowjob. I don't think she even knows that the people in the club are watching her, or maybe she doesn't care. 

Suddenly the man puts his hand in her hair. He starts thrusting deeper into her mouth. Soon he embeds himself down her throat, and his head falls back. I know he's cumming. The woman sits there, letting him use her. This is probably the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

Eventually the man pulls out of her mouth and a long trail of cum hangs from her lips. 

"Thank you, master." And she drops her head to his feet again.

**********

She's intriguing, with very subtle hints of submission. Quiet, inquisitive, tactile, won't maintain eye contact for long, and I'm sure as hell she didn't pick this place, but she went along with what the men wanted. She's powerful, not a word I usually use with women, and I can't help but imagine her muscles straining as she pulls against ropes or chains. I can feel my cock twitching already. 

I just have to figure out how I'm going to bring out her natural submissiveness ... before anyone else does.

**********

The lights come back up; I turn to look at the shadow man. He's good looking, maybe mid to late 40's, dark hair with a little salt and pepper at his temples, average height and build. He has on an expensive looking charcoal suit with a royal blue shirt underneath. He's talking with Jared now; they're discussing the 'show'. For some reason, I want him to look at me. I finish my drink and realize it's time for a bathroom break. A girl can only have so many margaritas before she has to make room for more. I stand up, or try to stand up anyway. I'm a bit more drunk than I thought I was. I lean on the table trying to get my balance. When I finally do stand, I see that all eyes are on me. All four men are looking at me, but I only see the shadow mans. Deep, intense caramel eyes stare up at me. He and Dan both come to my aid. I shrug them off and let them know where I'm going. 

When the shadow man speaks, I can feel a tingle in my core. I'm not sure if it's the drinks, the erotic show, or just the man's voice, but I've never felt quite like this before. "Do you know where the bathrooms are?"

I look around and don't see any signs, so I shake my head 'no'. I'm not sure my voice would hold if I tried to speak. 

"I'll show you the way. Make sure you get there safe." His voice is ... I don't know; it's like he has never had anyone say no to him before. The deep masculine voice is dripping with confidence. 

"OK." I didn't know what else to say. I think deep down I just wanted to be alone with him.

The shadow man takes me by the arm and starts to lead me away. I look back at the table, and Jared, Dan and Brian are all watching me go. The bar has filled up compare to before; almost 40-60 tables are occupied. The hall could easily handle another 300-400 people before starting to become crowded. The man leads me toward the bar, then towards the back of the building. We walk towards the entrance the boys and I came in through. 

I ask him what he meant by safe. He looks at me, confused by the question. "You said you'd make sure I got to the bathrooms SAFE. What did you mean by that?"

He smiles again; he's a very sexy older man. "Your yellow band identifies you as a non-member, and without an escort, other members are free to try and 'collect' you. Don't look so shocked! You ARE in a BDSM club. Jared said you're not into the lifestyle, and has in fact been introducing you as such, but walking around alone could cause some confusion."

"Is that why he makes it a point to introduce me as 'just a friend from work' to everyone? How do I know I'll be safe with you?"

This actually draws a laugh from him. "Very few beautiful women ever consider themselves SAFE with me, but I will deliver you safely to the bathrooms and back to your table again."




Just Curious Ch. 01



I look at him, trying to figure out if he's joking, but he's just looking where he's guiding me. I never considered myself beautiful. Attractive, maybe; cute, maybe; but not beautiful. 

Just before we get to the door that the bouncer opens, there is a large archway. Through the archway there is a hallway that leads behind the bar area. There are several doors along one side of the hallway, and four smaller archways on the other side.

"Do you want to 'powder your nose', or do you actually have to go?" he asks as he stops us just inside of the archway.

"Why?" I'm confused by the question.

He has that cocky grin on his face again. "Well, we have a powder room..." and he leads us through the closest archway. It's a long room with mirrors, and sinks, toiletries, and even a few bathrobes hanging on hooks. There are three women in this room, they didn't expect to see the shadow man in here, but they're not doing anything to kick him out.

"No, I actually have to go." The shadow man leads me through the long room and out another archway. He leads me across the hall to the side with all the doors. He opens one and holds it, waiting for me to enter. It's the first time he has let me go since guiding me from my table. I slowly walk into an ornate bathroom. It has pewter fixtures, dark marble countertops, a floor to ceiling mirror, and enough room for six people to stand in comfortably.

Natures call gets priority. When I'm done with that I'm standing in front of the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. Beautiful, did he really call me beautiful? What did he mean by that? I unwrap one of the plastic cups to get myself a drink of water. Rehydration is the key to avoiding hangovers...I hope. 

The first thing that gets my attention is the fact that the music gets perceptively louder. Looking in the mirror, I see the door closing and the shadow man in the bathroom, in MY bathroom.

"You can't be in here!" Turning to face him, not sure what's going on. 

"Why not?" Cool, calm, charismatic. He looks completely comfortable in my bathroom.

I'm flustered now; I'm not sure I know how to answer that. "Because it's a lady's room."

His smile returns. "No, it's not. Anyone, of any sex, can use any bathroom."

"Umm..." Yeah, nothing is coming to mind.

"I was just checking up on you. You were looking a bit 'green' when you entered. I thought you might be sick."

"I'm fine." My answer is hesitant, unsure. 

"You are. You really, really are." He steps closer to me, and slowly reaches his hand up to my face. I try to back away, but I'm already up against the sink. I can feel the heat from his palm as he slowly brushes my temple, sliding his fingers down through my hair.

I stand there, frozen. I try to stare at the shadow man, but my eyes keep darting around. Why can't I maintain eye contact; why don't I tell him to stop?

The silence is too much to handle. I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head; "What's your name?"

He doesn't respond right away, he's still focused on my red hair. Eventually he looks me right in the eyes. I try to match his stare, but I fold, and my eyes drop to his shoulder. I feel his hand under my chin, lifting my face. My blue eyes meet his caramel eyes. "Dustin. My name is Dustin and I own this club." He smiles again. "And technically, I own this bathroom."

The next thing I know is that he tilts my head down, and he's kissing me. His warm soft lips pressed against mine. I feel his tongue sliding along my lips, pressing to be let in. I don't know why, but I let him. As soon as I do that, he takes full control. 

I feel his hand in my hair; his grip tightens enough to start to hurt. His mouth owns mine. Exploring everywhere and anywhere he wants. I realize my hands are resting on his waist. I'm confused because I don't remember doing that. 

He breaks the kiss and watches me struggle with my feelings. My breathing eventually starts to return to normal, and I remember I'm still holding on to his waist. I swiftly pull my hands off him and cross them over my chest, in some hopeless semblance of protection. Instantly he takes me by my wrists and pulls them to my sides, making me feel exposed all over again. He steps into me, pressing himself fully against me. His eyes catch mine again, before he leans in, whispering in my ear; "You really are fine. So beautiful. So delightful. So sensual. " He steps away from me, breaking all contact, except for our eyes. "So submissive."

I'm not submissive, am I? I've never done anything like that before. I've never let some strange, slightly scary guy kiss me like that. I'm over 6 feet tall, I can't be submissive. I watch as he backs up and opens the door. Then he waits, just waits. He doesn't say anything, or do anything, or motion for me to leave. He just waits. 

I walk toward him, toward the door. He takes me by the arm again and starts guiding me out of the bathroom, out of the hallway and back to my table. He doesn't speak a word, or even look at me. It's disconcerting how he can go from complete control one minute to basically ignoring me the next. 

I'm too drunk to deal with this right now. I just focus on the table, my friends, getting closer and closer. The shadow man, Dustin, leads me to my table, pulls out my chair, and pushes it in for me when I'm seated. He goes over and says a few words to Jared, then leaves. He just leaves. I try to sort through what just happened, and I realize that all eyes are on me. Jared, Dan and Brian are just staring are me. 

Dan goes first, direct and to the point as always. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, of course. I just went to the bathroom." I really don't like lying to Dan, but I'm so confused right now. I'm not even sure what just happened.

Brian goes next. Even though he's not my brother, he's in full-blown big brother mode. "Did he touch you? Are you really OK? What happened? Don't you dare leave anything out!"

"I'm fine. I went to the bathroom, splashed some water on my face, and came back to the table. That's it. There's only one thing..."

Everyone waits, staring at me. I look each of them in the eye. "Why the hell is my margarita glass empty?" There's a few seconds of silence, before everyone breaks out laughing. The banter starts again and Dan and Brian decide to try their luck with a few ladies at the bar while getting a round of drinks.

Jared looks at me after they leave. It's only a few moments, but it seems like forever. "Are you submissive? I've got a pretty good idea what to look for, and I've never seen it in you before. But Dustin Durant is very particular. He wouldn't be sniffing around this table if there wasn't prey here."

"You make it sounds like he's an animal. Nothing happened. I'm fine. You're overreacting."

Jared doesn't look convinced. "Just be careful, OK? Dustin is not like any man you've ever met before. He is very good at what he does. He enjoys all aspects of dominance." He got the last word in, so Jared lets it drop. Soon the defeated boys return with our drinks and the party starts over again.

An hour or two later, the lights start to flicker again. There's been no sign of the shadow man since he left. As I watch all the people start to settle in and shift their chairs to get a better view of the stage, I hear his voice again. He's talking to Jared, right behind me. I hear the chair slide out, and I know he's sitting there, but I don't turn around. I don't know why I don't. Maybe because I'm a chicken. Maybe because I'm confused. Maybe because I'm hurt that he just left before.

The lights dim, and the talking in the hall dwindles down to almost nothing. The stage lights up and there is some kind of frame on the stage. It has triangles on the sides and one bar across the top connecting them. There are chains hanging down from the cross bar. There is also what looks like a crate off to the side of the frame.

A black man and woman step onto the stage. The man is wearing a black silky looking robe and the woman a dark red one. He holds her for a bit, caressing her face. He's talking to her, but we can't hear. The woman nods her head and smiles up at him. The man starts to remove her robe. He tosses it off to the side. She's naked, except for what look like red cuffs around her wrists and ankles. The man caresses her body; her face, her breasts, down her stomach. He reaches between her legs, and I know from her reaction that he's touching her clit. I watch her body start to sway. 

I look behind me, I can't help it. I have to know that he's there. He is. He's watching me again. Turning back to the stage, I see the man guiding the woman to the crate. He lays her on it, so the audience can see her profile. The man stands between her legs at the edge of the crate. One of her legs is behind him, the other he lifts straight up and holds it there. He pulls something out of his pocket with his free hand. The something is neon pink, and about twice as long as the palm of his hands. I blush when I recognize that the thing is a vibrator. I glance back at the shadow man; he's smiling as he watches me. Damn, that's annoying. Why is he always smiling?

I glance over, and Jared is watching me also. I can see the concern on his face. I quickly turn back to the stage. The man is running the vibrator between the woman's legs. Nothing is left to the imagination. Her legs are spread wide, her hands are pressed against the top of the crate, and her breasts are rising and falling with every breath. 

The man starts the work the vibrator inside her pussy, slowly pressing it in, then just as slowly pulling it out. The woman tries to stay as still as she can, but she slips every once in a while and raises her hips to meet him. That only makes the man pull out the vibe; denying her, torturing her. I can hear her whimper from this distance; they are now wearing small Bluetooth microphones. 

The man works her for a while, making her squirm and moan. Finally he pulls the vibrator out and brushes it against her lips. Without any instruction, the woman starts licking the vibe like a cat. He puts the vibe sideways into her mouth, and she holds it there. When the man speaks, his voice is deep and masculine. Damn, again it's the voice that gets me. I can feel my panties getting wet again.

"I think you're ready, pet. Time to play" He helps her up off the crate and walks her to the frame. She keeps the neon pink vibe in her mouth and passively lets him attach her wrist cuffs to the chains hanging from the cross bar. Then the man bends over and attaches chains to the cuffs on her ankles. She's spread eagle, naked, holding a gaudy pink sex toy in her mouth, in front of a room full of strangers. I'm starting to fidget. My pussy is tingling. I don't want to watch, but I can't help it.

I look behind me, Dustin is still watching me. "What's going to happen?"

"Patience, girl, the build-up to an orgasm is half the fun." His voice is deep and soothing almost.

"But what's going to happen?"

"I told you to be patient. Now watch." The command in his voice was unmistakable. It strikes right into my core. I can feel my pussy almost spasm when he speaks like that. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

I turn back to the stage. The man is working the vibrator back inside the woman's pussy. He gets it all the way in and releases it. "Hold it pet. Don't let it slip out."

"I won't, sir." 

There is a small chain dangling between the woman's legs. I don't think that was there before. The man kneels down at her side, stroking her calves and thighs. He again reaches into a pocket in his robe. 

Looking up at the exposed woman, he tugs on the chain a few times. "Good girl, little pet. Are you ready?"

"Yes sir, I am ready."

The man takes something from his hand and attaches it to the chain. It's dark, maybe black, and is about the size of a tennis ball. I look back at the shadow man, he's watching the show. It's dark, but I can see the smirk on his face. He knows what that thing is.

"What is that?" I can't help but ask. My curiosity is peaking.

"You mean 'What are those?'" He nods his head to the stage.

I look again and the man has another ball clipped to the chain, and it looks like he's adding a third one. The woman's face is set; like she's concentrating hard on something.

I quickly turn back to the shadow man; I can't remember to call him Dustin. "What are those?"

"If I'm not mistaken, and I rarely am, those are one pound weights. Raclynn has to clamp down on the vibe to keep it in her pussy. The more weight that is added, the harder she has to work to keep it inside."

I glance back to the stage. The man is walking around the helpless woman, stroking her.

"What happens if she drops it?" For some reason I have to know.

"That depends on her owner. She could be deprived of orgasm for a certain amount of time. She could lose some of the privileges she has earned in JaMichaels home, or she could be physically punished; something like what Sherri received earlier this evening."

"Owner?" 

"Raclynn is a pet. She is owned by JaMichael. He keeps her safe, warm, and cares for her. She allows herself to be owned and is trained by him. Both are kept happy with each other."

"Owner! Is that even legal?" I've heard of this, but just in stories. I don't think I ever really believed that someone would do that in real life. This evening is getting surreal. Not sure what else to do, I turn back toward the stage.

The woman is still there, clamping down on the vibrator inside her, three large one pound weights hanging between her legs. The man pulls something out of his pocket before dropping his robe onto the crate. I watch, fascinated and to be honest, slightly repulsed, as he squirts gel into his hand and rubs it all along his cock. He's hard, and I focus on his long dark cock until he steps behind the woman, his large hands wrapping around her waist.

"Don't disappoint me, pet. It would be bad for you." He whispers as he nibbles on her ear.

"I won't, sir. I promise." She's trembling a bit now. I'm not sure if it's due to lust, anticipation, or the struggle to keep the vibe inside her. My pussy is soaking now.

The reaction on her face is the first thing I notice. Her eyes close, and her mouth opens in something like a snarl. Her hips are forced forward, and her arms are stretched against the chains. I lean forward, trying to see between her legs, the vibe is still there, the three balls swaying beneath her. 

I turn around. The shadow mans eyes flash to mine. "He's fucking her ass? And she's supposed to keep the vibe inside her?"

He nods yes; it's barely perceptible in the darkness. "Just imagine all the practice sessions. Imagine all the months they've been preparing for this night." 

I didn't even think of that. I glance at Jared, and he's watching the show. Dan and Brian are oblivious to anything but the stage. Dan has his hand over his crotch; Brian has his cock out and is actively stroking it. 

The man on stage is using slow steady strokes to fuck her ass. The woman's eyes are closed; the neon pick of the vibe is starting to poke out of her wet, pink pussy. Part of me hopes she can hold it in the whole time, but another part wants to see what happens if she drops it. 

Slowly his pace starts to speed up. The sounds are echoing through the hall: the slaps of skin against skin; the metallic rustle of the chains, the lustful deep masculine groans, the higher pitched moans and whimpers. My pussy is demanding attention. Damn, why did I wear a dress tonight? I start rubbing my pussy, the dampness seeping through my dress.

The neon vibe is showing almost 2-3 inches now. The woman has tears running down her face. The man pace has increased to pounding, erratic. He's close, everyone knows it. His shout rings out as he slams one last time into the woman, his pet.

The hall is completely quiet. He waits a few seconds before pulling out of her ass. His breathing is ragged as he steps to her side. "You did very good, pet. I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." I can hear the strain in her voice. Her body is shaking.

"You can drop the vibe now, little pet." There are several thuds as the three balls and the vibe drop to the floor. Her thighs are slick with moisture, and his cum is running down the inside of one of her thighs. 

The hall erupts in applause and shouts and whistles. The woman is slumped in her chains, exhaustion draped over her body. The man unchains her and carefully carries her off the stage. The lights come on again, and the sounds of conversations start. I reluctantly pull my hand away from my pussy, and turn my chair around. Dustin is still there, watching me.

"Do you have to keep staring at me?" I'm a combination of horny, annoyed, drunk, tired, and embarrassed. I'm getting defensive.

His eyes narrow, and his head tilts down; he stands up. Walking around the table, he grabs me by the hair. "Be very careful with your tone of voice, girl. It will get you in a lot of trouble." I hear Dan and Brian jumping up, defending me. The shadow man, Dustin, let's go, but keeps staring at me, towering over me, ignoring the boys. He takes my hand and pops my fingers in his mouth. I'm too shocked to move. I think he's going to bite me. I just stare up at him, immobile. His tongue starts working over my fingers, before I realize that was the hand rubbing my pussy during the show. He was behind me, how the hell did he know that? I quickly pull my fingers out of his mouth, and a cocky smile crosses his face, before he silently turns and walks away. Dan and Brian are there behind me, asking if I'm OK. God, I'm starting to hate that question! At this point, I just want to go home.

"I just want to go home."

Dan and Brian will drive me home. Dan has been drinking Pepsi for the last three hours. The ride home is eerily quiet. The boys asked a bunch of questions at first, and I didn't answer any of them, so they stopped asking. When we get to my place they each give me a big hug. Brian apologizes for making me go to that club; he's the one who begged Jared to take us there. I just hug them both and head into my apartment. It's been a long month, a long week, and an even longer night. I need some sleep.

(This turned out to be a long story, over 60 MS Word pages, so I broke it into 4 parts. I'll post one part every Sunday for your reading pleasure.

Please vote and I love comments)



Just Curious Ch. 03



As promised, part 3 of 4 of my lovely adventure into the unknown. This is the part that got a little bit dark, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 

(No fictional characters were hurt during the writing, or reading, of this story.) 




I lost control. The worst thing to do right now is to leave her alone, to give her time to think, but I have to regroup. That was bad. That was really bad. I leave the room and take the elevator to my floor. After a quick and cool shower, I slip on a pair of comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. Taking the elevator back to the main floor, I walk out toward the bar area.

There are several women cleaning the tables, and two more up on stage sanitizing the equipment used last night. Harper sees me and starts walking to intercept me. "Hey boss, that was fast. Did she BOLT on you?" He's grinning at his own bad pun. Dork.

I walk behind the bar and grab a bottle of Aberlour single malt whiskey and a glass. Turning toward the bar I see Harper's frowning face taking a seat across from me. 

"What are you doing? Did you let her go?" 

"No." I open the bottle and start pouring myself a long drink.

Harper grabs the bottle and pulls it out of my hand. "Again I'll ask: What are you doing?" He's serious now; I've known him long enough. "Did you let her go? Or should I get her dressed and drive her home?"

Damn him. I swallow the little bit of whiskey I got into the glass. "She's still up there, and I'm not ready to let her go yet." 

"Then what the fuck are you doing drinking? They're YOUR rules, and they're good ones. What's wrong with you? Why are you down here so soon? "

I stare at him, not quite sure what actually happened. I just know something did. "I lost control."

The sentence hangs in the air for a moment. Harper doesn't move or say a word. He just waits for me to elaborate.

"I started simple, with a signal whip. I was just going to put a little design on her back, five or six strokes, to let her get a feel for it. She didn't scream once. Not once, Harper! No begging. Nothing. She just groaned and whimpered and I could see the cream oozing out from between her legs. I was getting so hard." I'm watching Harper, judging his reactions. "I put a full sunburst on her back."

"What? That's like 20-25 lashes. Are you insane? And she has NO experience in this. What were you thinking?" The women cleaning the bar turn to us, but soon go back to their tasks. He's right. I know he's right, but I lost control. 

"I know. Her legs were so long, I had to peg them to the front of the bench. She was so scared, and so strong, standing there, naked. She was juicy before I even started, and she just kept creaming. When the sunburst was done, I had to fuck her. I had to. I slammed inside her, and she came almost immediately. I didn't know, I swear. I don't even think she knows." I try to take another drink from the empty whiskey glass.

Harper looks shocked. "She came from the whipping? Are you serious?"

"I only fucked her with two or three strokes. She came so hard it was almost painful. It WAS painful. I just left her there. I had to get control again. Harper, I had to just leave her there."

"Dustin...It's her first time. You can't do that kind of shit to a newbie."

"I know. I know. I'll fix it." Harper doesn't look convinced. "I'll fix it." He gives me one more of his 'looks' and wiggles the whiskey bottle at me. "I gotta go see this." He hops off the bar stool, whiskey bottle spinning in his hand, and heads straight for the viewing rooms. Pointing at the door, he shouts across the room, "Ladies, I'll be in here if you need anything." He's a bastard, but I love him.

Hopping back on the elevator I try to plan my next move. She's been alone for almost half an hour now. I never should have left her, but I couldn't stay there if I wasn't in control of myself. I make it to the door, and I stand there for a few moments, deciding what to do. I pick the Bluetooth earpiece off the floor where I tossed it, and secure it to my ear. I know Harper will have the live video feed on at least one of the screens, while he watches the recorded audio/video on the other screens.

**********

I've actually managed to stop crying. I usually don't cry, so it's annoying that I keep doing it today, even though today is kind of bizarre. The burning sensation over my back has become manageable pain-wise. My pussy is very sore, and between my legs has gone from warm and slick to cold and sticky. I just want to go home. The minutes tick by as I watch the little red blinking lights.

I hear the door finally open, and I can hear someone walking in.

Then nothing. No sounds. No movement I can see. Nothing.

"Hello. Is someone there?"

"Shhhh girl." It's the voice. Then I feel it, his warm hand on my ass. He's looking at my back. His hand starts stroking down the whip marks on my back. I hiss as he strokes some of the more tender spots. 

"Can I go home now?" 

**********

Shit, I never should have left her alone. I have to fix this. I have to regain control, of myself and of her. "No. I'm not done with you yet." I watch as a delicious shiver rolls down her body. 

I do a quick assessment of her condition. Her pulse is a little high, but that's expected. Her temperature is good. Her back is covered in welts, her ass is red, but her arms and legs are cool to the touch. She's in better condition that I thought she'd be in. She's a strong one.

I kneel down by her head, stroking her hair out of her face. Those big beautiful blue/green eyes turn to me. I kiss her forehead. I kiss her eyes. I kiss her cheeks. I kiss her nose. I look into her eyes again. Her eyes are puffy from crying, but in them I see everything that excites me about her: scared, confused, exhausted, and aroused. Running my thumb over her soft lips, my faith is restored as she parts them slightly, letting my thumb slip into her mouth. So fucking perfect. 

"Girl, listen to me. I shouldn't have left you alone just now, but something came up. I want to continue. I want to see how far I can take you. I know what you are. I know what you need, but you have to ask, girl. You have to say the words before I can continue. 

"Have you ever even been spanked before? Whipped? Have you ever cum that hard before? Don't you want to find out where this goes? What you can do? What you are? You are so impressive and you don't even know it. Just say the words girl." 

"I have to say the words? I don't know. I don't understand. Please, I don't know." I am so confused right now. My pussy tingles every time he speaks. I've never cum that hard before. I don't know why I keep doing the things he says, but somewhere deep down inside me wants to. Needs to. My head and my body are going in two completely different directions. I don't know what to do.

Dustin taps the Bluetooth in my ear. "You have to consent to this. You have to say the words. I know you can do it. I know I can make you cum again, but you have to choose. You have to say the words, girl." Dustin reaches for one of the whips, holding it before me. "What is this called? What do you want me to do with it?"

It's the signal whip with the tuft on the end. The name has something to do with a ship. I think for a second, forcing myself to remember. "It's called a galley whip, and you said it'd hurt more than the last one."

He kisses me on the forehead and whispers "Good girl." He takes a long look into my eyes before he asks again. "What do you want me to do with it?"

I feel my body tremble; it knows what I'm going to say before my mind does. "Please, whip me with the galley whip." I watch as a large smile brightens his face. Even though it was humiliating to say those words, they somehow seem right. Maybe they just seem right because they made him happy.

He doesn't start in on me right away like I thought he would. The first thing he does is reposition me. He releases my arms and has me scoot forward so I'm sitting in the middle of the whipping bench. He then puts some chains into loops on the floor and attaches my wrists to them so my arms are pulled straight out from my body. After caressing my legs for a few moments, he repositions my legs the same way he did my arms. Basically, I'm spread eagle, my stomach on the bench with my arms and legs chained to the floor. My tits are hanging over the edge of the bench.

Dustin runs his hands over my body, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers trace some of the welts on my back before reaching underneath me to grasp my breast. "Whose tit is this, girl?"

Huh? That's a strange question. "It's my breast." AAHhhhh. That was definitely the wrong answer. He's squeezing and pulling my breast out to the side. The pain is flaring through my body, from my tit to my toes and all the way back into my pussy. His voice is deep and penetrating. "Whose tit is this?" He's still hurting me. It's hard to breath; hard to think.

Gasping for breath; "It's your tit. It's your tit." The pain subsides and Dustin rubs my breast for a while. Soon he works his way down my body. I feel his hand running over the marks on my back, before squeezing my ass a few times. "Whose ass is this?" His hand is distracting me. The caress feels so good, but I can't help but expect him to slap me again.

"It's your ass. My ass is yours." He makes a noise that sounds like approval. Slowly he dips his finger down my crack and into my pussy. It's wet and slick, and he slides right in. How the hell did that happen, he's only been here a few minutes. His finger feels so good sliding in and out of me. My hips automatically try to lift up to meet him. "Good girl. Whose pussy is this? Who gets to use this pussy?" Ah, damn it. I know I'm lost now. My pussy is demanding more, and I know I'll do anything to get it.

"It's yours. My pussy is yours to use. Yours to fuck. Yours to fill with cum." It was still humiliating to say, but my pussy seems to be in charge now. And it doesn't seem to care how humiliated the rest of me is.

I get three hard quick slaps on my ass. "So eager to please, my greedy little girl." Dustin slowly drags the galley whip across my back. Please, please not my back. Not again. There's a moment, only a moment, of nothing. No sound, no smell, nothing to feel except the bench under me and the leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles; nothing to do but stare at the ground and wait. Wait for the inevitable.

The sound comes first; the whining whistle of leather slicing through air. Then the sharp CRACK immediately before the pain flares through my arm, just above the elbow. My breath catches as I allow the pain to flow through me, define me. Slowly it ebbs down to a sting and the pattern repeats: whistle-crack-pain. My mind goes blank as Dustin works my legs and arms; knee to ass and elbow to shoulder. 

I internalize the pain, making it a part of me, owning it. I let it flow through my body like blood. The rest of the world ceases to exist. There's just the rhythm of the blows, the soft cooing words Dustin whispers to me, and the moisture pooling between my legs. This is where I belong. This is what I am.

The whipping stops and all I can hear is Dustin's breathing coming from behind me. I wait for a few seconds to see if it's over or if he'll whip me more. I wait and nothing happens. Is he done? Did I do something wrong? That last thought makes me panic. What if he isn't happy with me? 

"Please. I'm yours. I'm yours to hurt, yours to fuck, yours to use. My pussy is yours. My ass is yours. My mouth is yours. Please fuck me. Please make me cum." I'm babbling, not sure what I'm saying or why, but somewhere deep down inside me says I need to say them. I need to please this man.

Again I hear a cabinet opening from somewhere behind me. A few seconds later Dustin is using his fingers to open my pussy. Please fuck me. Please fuck me. Please fuck me. Something cold is pressed against the entrance of my pussy. A loud moan escapes my lips as something hard, cold, and huge pierces all the way into me. Oh my gawd! I try to move away or arch my back to relieve the pressure, but the thing is still there. Dusting slowly pulls it out and slams it back in over and over. I'm writhing on the whipping bench, the burning of my back, arms and legs forgotten. All of me is focused on the sensations pouring through my pussy. It's too much. 

With a blinding intensity, my body explodes. Every nerve ending, every muscle, every fiber feels like it is struck by lightning. My breathing stops entirely. Everything stops. 

When my surroundings come back into focus, Dustin is kneeling down by my head, stroking my hair. He's holding a huge blue glass dildo. The head is over-exaggerated; the thick shaft is covered in nubs, and the base has several spiky protrusions sticking up out of it. There is no way that fit inside me; except that it's covered in my cum. 

"Please. Please. What's wrong with me? I don't know what's happening. I don't understand. Please" I'm babbling again. Crying and babbling. Why do I keep doing that?

"Shhhh Shhhhh There's nothing wrong with you, girl. I know what you are, and it's absolutely perfect." He's smiling at me as he brushes my hair out of my face, calming me.

I struggle to keep my head raised enough to look at him. I'm exhausted. I can't seem to think straight. But in my fog filled brain, I'm starting to make the connection. "It's the pain. The pain makes me cum."

A look of pride crosses Dustin's face. "Yes, I believe so. You took a hard whipping and came too soon after I started fucking you. I'm betting I could get you to cum from just the whip. And that is a rare and extraordinary trait. " He sees the fear and doubt cross my mind. "There's nothing wrong with you, girl. It's just something you are. You just are. "

"Why do you keep calling me that? Girl. I have a name." I get defensive when I feel lost, and I am so very lost now. A lost little girl.

Dustin just keeps smiling. "You do have a name, and a beautiful name it is. But right here, right now, you're just a toy. A thing for me to play with. In time you could earn your name back, but for now, you're just my fucktoy. And speaking of fucktoys, I'm going to use you again. Are you ready? Say the words, girl. Give me permission to use you."

His words hurt me. Almost as if he hit me in the gut. I'm not a thing. I'm a person. "It's humiliating. I don't wanna talk like that. I'm sorry. Please." I just can't keep humiliating myself. Some small part of me is fighting for my identity. I'm a person. I have a name. A real name. He can't expect me to make myself a sextoy. He can't.

He takes a deep breath, and I wonder if I offended him, but it looks more like he's thinking. He's toying with my nipples as he organizes his thoughts. His voice is soft and calm, like a teacher. "You have to say the words, for many reasons. First, it excites me, it makes me hard. That should be reason enough for you to beg. A submissive wants to please. You should want to please me."

"I don't want to be submissive." 

He laughs again. I always feel like a said something stupid when he laughs like that. "You might have thought of that before you came back here, alone, and let me strap you, naked, to a whipping bench. Besides, your sexual preferences aren't something you want or don't want. They just are."

"Kind of like how you are just an asshole." I knew the second those words left my mouth, that I shouldn't have said that. I really need to think before I speak. My body tenses waiting for Dustin's response. He just laughs a little and shakes his head. "Normally I would punish you for that, but I'm in a very good mood right now. I'll let that one slide; this time." He gives me a stern look, emphasizing the last two words. 

He continues: "Second, it internalizes the submission. Your submission. Otherwise it would just be me doing things to you. If you're the one begging for a whipping or a hard fuck, you are an active participant in the experience. It becomes more real."

He waits while I process that one. It does kind of make sense. "And third, it helps me know if I've pushed you too far. Anyone can say 'Yes' or 'No' over and over. You have to be lucid to speak full, coherent sentences. Sometimes if you push a person too far, their mind separates from their body, protecting themselves. I need to know if you're OK, and how much more I can push you. It a safety net for you." He watches me for a few moments, gently petting my hair. 

The voice he uses next is the commanding one. The voice that fully expects everyone to obey every word he speaks. "I'm going to use you again. Say the words, girl. Say them and give yourself to me so I can use you." His eyes are locked on mine, waiting.

Can I do this? My breath is coming is short sharp gasps. I just look into his eyes, and I see his excitement there. This is what he is. This is what he does. It doesn't seem wrong for him, it fits him. Is this who I am? He's leaning in until his lips brush softly against mine. My tongue slips out, searching for his. The kiss is long, slow, and sensual. "Such a good girl. What do you want? Tell me."

The soft kiss and the words of praise melt any resistance in me. I do want to please this man. I do want him to make me cum over and over. I know any pain he gives me will get me closer to both of those goals. I know I have to say the words so he knows if I'm safe. He wants me safe. He wants me. 

"Please Dustin, Please fuck me. Use me. I'm yours. My body is yours. My mind is yours. Everything is yours. Use me. Please." I watch fascinated as Dustin smiles. I know he's happy, and somehow that makes me proud, because I'm the one that made him happy.

Dustin stands and I watch as he starts to open his jeans. The button pops open and he lowers the zipper. For the first time tonight, I see the thing I've come to crave. His cock is semi-hard and it's long and thick. I see the prominent vein snaking along the underside. He rubs the head over my face, before pressing it against my lips. My tongue eagerly slips out as I open my mouth to taste him.

The next few minutes are a slow, instructional blow job. Dustin is telling what to do, and what he likes, and I am eagerly trying to please him. His masculine, musky scent and taste engulf me. I'll do anything he tells me to. He tells me when to suck, when to lick, when to moan, and I do it all. Soon his cock is hard again, and he's ready to fuck me.

Dustin places his hands on the back of my head, and tries to press himself into my throat. I start gagging almost instantly, and he has to pull out of my mouth. As much as I love giving oral, I've never been able to take it deep. He waits for me to recover and slides himself back into my mouth. He repeatedly tries to fuck my throat, trying to talk me through it, but every time his cock hits the back of my mouth I start gagging. Dustin tries about a dozen more times before he pulls out and steps back.

Is he mad? I can do better. "Please. Please. I can do it. I'll try harder." 

"Shhh. It's OK, girl. I know it's your first time. It takes practice." He kneels down in front of me again. "I need you to take a deep breath, hold it, and open your mouth as wide as you can. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, I can do that." I hold my breath with my mouth open and watch as Dustin shakes a small bottle and sprays it into my mouth. An overpowering taste of cinnamon makes me cough. 

"Just give it a minute, girl." He strokes my hair again. He's telling me I'm a good girl, and how good I'm being. It's kind of demeaning, but I'm distracted by the strange feeling in my mouth. He asks how I feel, and I tell him about the tingling. "That's a good thing. That means it time to start again." 

Dustin stands again and slides his still hard cock into my mouth. He rocks himself back a forth a few times before pressing into me again. I concentrate, trying to keep from gagging, but this time something is different. He's numbed my throat with the cinnamon spray. I feel the head pressing into my throat. He tells me to swallow, but I can't with his cock pressing into me. I shake my head 'No'. I can't. 




Just Curious Ch. 03



Dustin slaps my previously abused shoulder with the palm of his hand. Hard. I gasp at the unexpected pain, and he uses that opening to shove himself all the way down my throat. I want to gag, to get it out, but nothing happens. My forehead is pressing against his stomach. I try to twist my head, but he's holding it tight. "I can make you do anything I want, little girl. It'll be easier if you just swallow when I tell you to next time." 

Slowly he pulls himself out of my throat. I start coughing, as he strokes my hair. Dustin waits while I regain my composure, he rubs his cock against my lips and when I open up, he slides inside my mouth again. He repeats the same actions as before. He thrusts into my mouth a few times before pressing against my throat and telling me to swallow. I try, and it takes a lot of courage, but I do swallow and he presses himself down my throat. "Good girl." He holds himself there for a few seconds and pulls out. 

For the next 10 minutes, this is my life. A slow, methodical throat fuck. He never increases the pace. He never changes the timing. He never seems to get any closer to cumming. My neck is sore, my abs are shaking from trying to keep my head up, my jaw is killing me. I try not to think about any of that, and just focus on what I can control; my breathing. Inhaling just before he presses down my throat, holding it when his cock is stretching my throat, and gasping for air when he pulls out. I get much better at swallowing him; he doesn't even have to tell me anymore, I just know when. I don't cough anymore, so I can lick and suck him when I'm breathing in through my nose. Saliva is dripping down my chin onto the floor below.

The minutes seem to last an eternity. I try everything I can think of to get him to cum, but nothing works. The pace never changes. I suck his balls, lick his shaft and beg him for his cum. Finally he stops. He just stops and puts his dick back in his jeans. I failed! I tried everything. "I'm sorry. Please. I'll do better. Please. I'll do anything. I'm so sorry." 

"Such a good girl." He starts petting my hair. "You did nothing wrong. That was wonderful. Don't be sorry for anything." He starts unchaining my arms from the brackets in the floor.

"But you didn't cum. I tried everything. I tried so hard. I can do better. I promise." I'm slumped over the bench now, exhaustion finally overcoming me.

"Shhh. If you remember, I fucked you just a little while ago. I need some time to recover from that tight pussy I was using." He pulls some chains down from the ceiling and starts clipping them to the cuffs on my wrists. "Don't worry yourself, girl. I am very happy with everything you've done so far." He goes to the wall and flips a switch, and the chains start receding up into the ceiling. He stops when my arms are high above my head, and I'm lifted a few inches above the whipping bench. My legs are still stretched out from the bench and chained to the floor. 

Dustin comes back to the bench and straddles it, facing me. He spends a few minutes sucking and playing with my tits. I'm so tired, I just hang there. Helpless. But somehow, it feels right. I get lost in the feeling his hands and his mouth on my skin.

When he's done with my breasts he pulls back and just looks at me. "So perfect. So submissive. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy training you." He reaches down to the floor and produces that huge blue glass dildo he used on me before. That can't be good. With one hand he reaches between my legs and opens my pussy, and with the other he shoves that damn thing into me. Fuck. 

He slides off the bench and goes to the wall and lowers me until I'm sitting on the bench, with no way for the glass dildo to slide out. I lose sight of him for a few minutes. When he returns he holds a bottle of water to my lips. I drink almost half the bottle instantly. Dustin also has a warm washcloth and he starts cleaning my face and chest with it. "Such a good girl."

"I have to go get ready for work, you be a good girl and try not to get into any trouble." He smirks as he kisses me again before he leaves the room. I hear the door closing and I feel lost. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Is he going to come back? These thoughts jumble around in my mind for a while.

***30 minutes later***

OK, so sitting on a large dildo is not a pleasant experience, I would describe it as bordering on painful. Not that I have a lot of options when trying to move, but I do have some wiggle room. No matter which way I tried to shift, it's still in there pressing against my insides. I tried lifting myself up by my arms, but I was too exhausted to do that for long. In the end, I just stayed as still as possible and tried not to breathe. That asshole left me hanging here!

***30 minutes after that***

The door finally opens. I'm still pissed, but more than that I want Dustin take this thing out of me. This sucks. He can't just leave me like this.

I hear footfalls behind me, and a warm hand caressing the whip marks on my back. "That was fucking spectacular!" The hand snakes around my side and stops on my breast.

I jerk forward, and try to twist around. That wasn't Dustin's voice. I sudden movement jolts the dildo that's still in my pussy causing me to moan. My head can only turn so far. What the fuck! "Who's there? Get your fucking hands off me." 

"Tsk Tsk Tsk. That's not very nice of you, girl. If your attitude doesn't improve very quickly, I'll have to let Dustin know, and that won't make him happy at all." The other hand has joined in fondling my breasts. 

"Harper? Get your hands off me!" I try to shake him off, but as expected, nothing good comes from that. Harper does take his hands off my breasts, but only so he can spank my ass.

Harper moves to stand in front of me, inspecting me. I start shaking from head to foot. He just looks over every inch of my body. "That's better, girl. I'm here to reposition you. Dustin doesn't like his toys to be in the same position very long. They have a tendency to start cramping up." Harpers eyes brighten when sees my pussy. He immediately starts caressing my landing strip. "But I was not informed of that absolutely luscious strawberry patch you have. I love redheads!" Harper continues to play with my pussy, and I just let him. This is so surreal. Eventually he gets enough, and he starts 'repositioning' me. I hope that includes taking the dildo out. Please take that thing out of me.

He clips my ankle cuffs to the top front of the bench. Then he stands in front of me and pulls the whole bench forward about a foot or two. My arms are still above my head, but they are now angled behind me, causing me to lean back; which causes the dildo to press forward into my stomach. Harper hears my groan and pats my tummy. 

"He said he put 'Big Blue' in you. You must have been really tight for him to want to stretch you a bit." Suddenly, he just leans forward and kisses me. One hand is on my breast, the other is back caressing my pussy. He's playing with me, using me, just like Dustin did. Eventually, I start rocking against him. "God, you are a submissive little thing, aren't you, girl? I'll come back and check on you later." With that, Harper just leaves. He leaves me tied up; legs spread obscenely wide, horny as hell, and with 'Big Blue' still jammed up inside me. This is going to suck. They are both assholes!

As promised, Harper returns three more times to reposition me. Each time he does, he takes the liberty of fondling me and making me frustratingly horny. What the hell is wrong with me? Its bad enough I let one guy do this to me, but two. There has to be something seriously wrong with me. The next hour is spent trying to figure out what that is.

The feeling of the dildo inside me has gone from a stretching, throbbing, stuffed feeling to a dull ache. I don't know if I'm getting used to it, or if my body just figured out it was useless and stopped transmitting the appropriate signals. I'm lying on my back this time. My arms are stretched down and toward my feet so my fingers can just touch the floor. My knees are bent and my feet locked in place near the middle of the whipping bench. 

I'm actually kind of in a 'zen' place right now. I've found a little red blinking light on the ceiling, and I'm just staring at it. No thoughts, no feelings, it's almost peaceful. Red light on, red light off. Red light on, red light off. Red light on, red light off. Red light on, red light off. Then I hear the door open. Harper must be back to reposition me, and torment me. My zen place is gone, and my pussy is starting to quiver. Please let me cum this time. Please.

I know I heard the door open, but nothing else has happened. I wait. Instinctively I know it's not Harper this time. Dustin has returned. I wait for as long as I can before lifting my head. I can see him between my parted legs. He's the shadow man again. Gone are the sleeping pants and jeans. He's wearing a dark suit and tie with a maroon shirt. He's standing there, silently observing me. He just watches with no expression on his handsome face. I lower my head and wait, my pussy is throbbing happily. 

Finally I hear him moving, and then his hands start stroking my body. I arch into his touch, pressing against him. He comes into my line of sight, and I just lay there, silently offering myself to him. He doesn't say anything at first; he's just looking down at my helpless, naked body. 

"Harper says you were downright rude the first time I sent him in here to move you. You have been such a good girl, I almost didn't believe him." His fingers find one of my hard nipples and he starts to pinch it, slowly increasing the pressure until I'm arching my back trying to relieve the pain. "Tell me girl, why would you be rude to Harper?"

"I didn't want him seeing me like that. I didn't want him touching me." The pain in my nipple is spreading through my entire chest. 

"Hhmmmm. Did you think that maybe I wanted him to see you? You were such a special and unexpected find; I wanted my best friend to see you for himself. Harper is also the manager of my establishment, which means he gets to take care of all sorts of things for me. So when I sent him up here to move you, he was only doing his job. Why would you be so rude to a man who was only doing his job?"

"I didn't want him touching me like that." 

Dustin shakes his head. "What you want is to please me. If I want someone to look at you, then you want someone to look at you. If I want someone to touch you, then you want someone to touch you. If I want someone to fuck you, you will do everything you can think of with that luscious body to make them very happy." Finally he releases my nipple as a wave of panic washes over me. Is this a test? Is he really going to let Harper have sex with me? Is Dustin mad at me? Disappointed? Did I screw up? Can I fix it? I don't think I can do this. 

"You need to be a member, or be with a member to get into this building. Passkeys or an escort are required to get to the second floor. No one will get in here unless I want them to. I suggest you remember that next time someone comes in here and adjust your attitude accordingly." His tone of voice is firm and all arguments end with that statement. I haven't said anything yet, but then Dustin hasn't asked me a question, so I remain quiet.

He reaches down and cups my mound, I grunt when his fingers gently press the dildo further inside me. "Whose pussy is this, girl?" He slowly starts to twist the dildo, I arch, trying to relieve the pain.

"Yours. It's yours. Please, god, stop. I'm yours." My breath is coming in short gasps and my eyes are shut tight. 

Dustin growls and presses 'Big Blue' deeper yet. "What's mine? You know what I want to hear. I've had enough with the little girl routine. What's mine?"

He pulls a long tormented moan out of me before I can speak. "Pussy. uuunng. Pussy yours. Please please I'm yours." I look up into his dark, stormy eyes. He's not happy yet. It wasn't enough. He wants me to humiliate myself more. I will do anything to get that damn thing out of me. Staring him straight in the eye, I give him everything he wants. "I'm yours Dustin. My pussy is yours to fuck. My ass is yours to whip. My tits are yours to cover in your cum. Use me. Hurt me. Fuck me. All of me is yours." I lift my hips, thrusting the dildo deep inside my cunt, my body starts trembling as the burst of pain washes over me.

"So fucking perfect." Dustin lays on top me, kissing me, his hands roaming anywhere and everywhere they want. His weight is pressing into my stomach; pressing into the large, hard glass object that has been torturing me for hours. His hands find my tits and I arch into his touch. I know he's causing me pain, but I also know he can give me ecstasy. Silently, painfully, I offer myself to the shadow man. The pain in my cunt starts to throb in rhythm with my heartbeat. The pain of my tits being mauled flows through my body like blood. The bruising endured by my lips, I breathe into my chest and I feel my body disperse it to the rest of me. This is where I belong. This is what I am. My body is writhing under the shadow man. It belongs to him.

He stands up, goes to the wall, and lowers some chains from the ceiling. He releases my hands from the whipping bench, and clips the chains from the ceiling to the cuffs on my wrist. He unclips my feet from the bench and goes to the wall to raise the chains. I'm limp as my arms slowly lift up and start pulling me up off the bench. Dustin pushes the bench out from under me once I get high enough. He stands back and looks me over. "Damn you're tall." He goes back to the cabinet and pulls out more chain. He lowers me down so I'm kneeling on the ground. He clips the new chains to my ankle cuffs then pulls my feet up till they are slightly lower than my ass, and clips the other end of the chain to my wrist cuffs. He goes back to the wall to raise me up again. 

My wrists are about 3 feet apart, and stretched above my head. A chain goes from my wrists to each of my ankles; my feet are pulled up to about same height as my thighs and my knees hover a foot or two above the floor. My thighs are spread slightly, and I'm hanging about eye level with Dustin. "Much better." He walks around me, inspecting me. 

The dildo has slipped mostly out of my pussy and now is just hanging there with the obscenely large head stuck inside me. Dustin spanks my ass a few times to see if it will fall out. It doesn't. "Here's your chance girl. If you want 'Big Blue' out, you're going to have to do it yourself." 

What the hell does that mean? I watch as he continues to slowly walk around me. I try pushing the damn thing out, but it doesn't budge; and it hurts like hell. I try again, but nothing happens except Dustin starts chuckling. Asshole. I try swinging, but all that does is to cause the dildo to swing, which is even more painful. Dustin has stopped walking around me, and is just standing back, watching my efforts. I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I open my knees as far as possible and jerk my hips forward. The pain bursts through my pussy an instant before the damn dildo drops to the floor with a loud thud. I collapse against the chains, head down, simply hanging there.

I feel Dustin wiping the tears from my face. I sniffle before looking up at him. "You're such an asshole! Why did you leave me like that? Why did you put that damn thing in me? It hurt, and you just left me." If I could hit him right now, I think I would actually do it.

Dustin pets my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Horny, sore, exhausted and you still find the will to fight. I love that." He smiles as he kisses me again, long and slow. "Everything I do is for a reason. Do you know why I left you? Do you know why I had Blue in you for so long?"

"Cause you're an asshole! You just left me." 

"I am an asshole, and I'm proud of it. But I have a theory about you, and I wanted to see if you were as special as I think you are." He wraps his hands around my waist then leans in and whispers in my ear. "I know you get off on the pain, girl, and I'm betting I can get you to cum with ONLY the pain." He looks me in the eyes again. "Big Blue was in you to desensitize you, to numb your pussy. I want to see if I can get you to cum now."

Realization is starting to dawn on me. I close my eyes as panic starts to sweep over me. Breathe. Just breathe. Can he do that? Can I do that? No way. No. No. No. He can't. He just....can't.

I open my eyes. Dustin is standing about 5 feet in front of me. He's holding the cat o' nine tails in his hand, slowly pulling the tails through his fingers. I shake my head no as I start pulling at the chains. Dustin just watches me struggle. I exhaust myself quickly and just stare at him. He's smiling, and relaxed, and in complete control. "What's the name of this whip, girl?"

I just shake my head no. Please, I can't do this. He can't be serious. He lifts his arm to the side and brings the whip down with a crack. He doesn't even get close to me, but my body jerks anyway. My breathing increases. My pussy starts to tingle. Why does it keep doing that every time he's in the room? "Answer me, girl, and while I'm still in a good mood would be best."

I close my eyes, again finding comfort in the darkness. Taking a long, calming breath, I answer him. "It's called a cat o' nine tails. It's the one that was used on the stage."

Dustin smiles. "Good girl. Now what do you want me to do with it?"

I shake my head no. Please. Please. This can't be happening.

That deep penetrating voice surrounds me. "Answer me, girl. What do you want me to do with this whip?" He cracks the whip again for emphasis. 

"Please Dustin; please whip me with the cat o' nine tails. Please make me cum for you. I'm yours." The words flow out of my mouth without even thinking. I know this is going to hurt, but I also know he's going to get me to cum. I'm finally going to cum.

**********

I strike her the instant she gives herself to me, a nice long stroke over her abdomen. He body twists in response to the lash. So beautiful. I watch the play of her muscles as she dances on the chain, the strength of her legs, and the dimple on her ass cheeks. Her succulent C-cup tits bouncing as she processes the pain. I watch as several red stripes form across her tummy. I need to see how much she can take. I need to know if I can make her cum.

I strike her from her neck to her pelvis; her tits, sides, and stomach slowly turn from the pale porcelain white skin to red angry flesh. Tears are freely flowing down her face, and sweat is trickling down her body, but she refuses to scream. God I hate screamers. 

I hear the change in her first. Her grunts and groans slowly become pants and moans. Her thighs show signs of moisture as her pussy starts to cream. Other than the whip, I haven't touched her yet. I wasn't sure when I started this if she could cum from jus the pain, but now I'm almost positive I can draw it out of her. I just have to push her over the edge.

I drop the whip and pick up the cane. God, I never dreamed she'd get this far. I tap her lightly on the chest with it until her focus is on it, and I give her a few second to comprehend her situation. She's practically quivering now. Shaking from head to feet; well knees in this case. 

I grab her by the hair and pull her head back sharply. "Give yourself to me, girl, and I'll make you cum like you never have before. Beg me, it's the only way you'll cum tonight. Deep down you know you belong to me. Beg me!" 

I can feel her body trembling against mine. I can hear her panting. I can see the tears streaming down her face. Everything about her is just delicious. "Fuck. Dustin. Please. Please make me cum. Please, I'm yours. Oh fuck. Hit me. Hit me with the cane. I want it. Please I need it. Please make me cum."




Just Curious Ch. 03



I strike her twice with the cane; once on the upper curve of her ass, and the other on the back of her thighs. I watch fascinated as her body jerks on the chains. A loud growl vibrates through the room. She collapses against the chains, but she completely surprises me by begging for more. She's actually begging again without being told. "Fuck. Please, I'm so close. Again. Please Dustin hit me again. I need to cum. I'm yours. Please."

I'm grinning from ear to ear, like the Cheshire Cat. Never one to disappoint the ladies. I strike her two more times. This time on the lower curve of her ass and again on the back of her thighs. Making sure not to hit the same spot twice. She's gasping for air and dancing on the chains, but the thing I want most, she hasn't given me yet. I want to watch her cum. I've pushed her so hard, and she's so close. 

"No, don't stop. Please god, I'm so close. Just more. Hit me more. Please Dustin. Please. I need. I need to cum. Fuck. Please. More hit with cane. I need more. Cum. Fuck. Please. Cum. Me.

Shit, she's starting to lose it. I have one more chance at this, and then I have to stop. I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry, but we both need this.

I step around to her other side, and get a firm grip on the handle of the rattan cane. It has to be three strikes this time and in quick succession, so she'll process it as one all encompassing hit. I visualize my targets, raise the cane, and land the three blows perfectly. One strike across her left nipple, then one across her right nipple, and the last on her swollen clit. The effect is instantaneous.

She tries to curl into a ball by pulling up her legs, protecting herself, and then her orgasm explodes. For the first time today she screams. Her back arches, opening up her body. She spasms while hanging from my chains. I watch the entire erotic display. It's not until I see her cum dripping down her legs that I lose myself for the second time today. I have to have her.

I move to stand behind her, pull my cock out faster than humanly possible, and ram myself into her quivering cunt. She's sopping wet and still pulsating. I hold her by her hips and start driving into her. Her moaning and panting is driving me crazy. I'm so fucking hard right now. She feels so good. I know I won't last long, but I'm enjoying every second. 

He body is limp and pliant as I fuck her. I'm not even sure she's conscious at this point. I pull her hips back a bit farther to get a better angle as my balls start to tighten up. I drive in deep a few more times before I erupt with a shout of my own. 

I stand there a few moments, before my cock slides out of her slick cunt. I'm not sure I can move just yet, but I need to see if she's OK. Making my way around to her front, I'm happy to see her eyes following my movement. She's still hanging limply, her hair and skin covered in sweat, her thighs white with cream and cum. I kiss her gently on the lips. "So fucking perfect." 

My fun for the night is over. I know she can't take anymore. Time to clean her up. 

**********

I know I'm begging, but I don't know what I'm saying exactly. Anything that will get Dustin to make me cum. Please, I have to cum. My breath catches as pain explodes across my chest and my entire body jolts from the shock of it. An instant later, I explode. The breath caught in my lungs is forced out as my back arches and my pussy become the center on my universe, ripple after ripple of pleasure flowing throughout my body.

When I come down from my orgasm, my body is still pounding. I can feel my weight jerking through my wrists and shoulders. It's only then that I begin to understand someone is fucking me. I feel a hard, thick cock slamming into my desensitized cunt. My head rolls back as I let Dustin use me again. I'm too exhausted to do anything else.

I don't know how long he fucks me, how long he uses me; I'm too disoriented to focus. I only know he's done when my body stops moving. I can feel his cum sliding slowly down the inside of my thigh. I watch as he slowly moves from behind me into my line of sight. 

Dustin looks at me for a bit, and then leans in to kiss me. "So fucking perfect." He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eye. "We're done for now, girl. I'm going to clean you up, and get you to bed. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Dustin takes the Bluetooth out of my ear and walks back to the alcove. After a bit I notice the red flashing lights going out. Were the cameras on this whole time? Walking back to me, he then unchains my ankles and my legs drop uselessly on the floor, not able to bear any weight. He lowers the chains from the ceiling until I'm kneeling on the floor, my arms still held up at about shoulder height. 

He kneels down in front of me and I just start crying. Emotionally I am exhausted, and a much deserved emotional breakdown begins. Dustin wraps one arm around my head, and places a few fingers gently at my side. It's the only way he can touch me without hurting me too much. He just holds me and rocks me back and forth. He's talking to me, but I don't comprehend the words, just his voice soothing me.

When my bawling lessens down to sobbing, Dustin lets go and unclips my wrist cuffs from the chains, but he leaves the cuffs around my wrists and ankles. "Time to get you cleaned up. I need you stand up for me, girl. Stand up." He helps me rise and slowly guides me to a bathroom. There is no mirror in here, just a sink, a toilet, and a shower. He sits me down on the toilet. He walks out as I do my business and returns a minute later with a bottle of water. He holds it to my lips as I quickly drink as much as I can. 

Next is the shower. He helps me into the stall and chains my wrists high up on the walls. At first I think he's crazy; where am I going to go? I can barely walk! When my legs give out a few minutes into the shower, I'm actually thankful he thought ahead enough to keep me from falling down. 

I'm not sure how I survived the shower. The water pounding down on my raw skin was unbearable. The cloth he used to wash me was probably soft, but it felt like a Brillo pad. I remember just hanging there, enduring it silently. No humiliation. No fear. No sexuality. I just let him clean me.

When he's done, he unhooks me and guides me out of the shower and starts drying me off. Again, not a pleasant experience. Dustin guides me out of the bathroom, and Harper is standing there, holding something black in his hands. Dustin walks me to him and they both maneuver me into a silky black robe. Dustin ties the robe in the front, as Harper lifts the hood up over my head. 

They each place one of my arms over their necks as they help me out of the room. We walk out into the second floor area. There are about two dozen people in the room, and they all turn to look at us. Dustin and Harper both ignore everyone and help me to the back and into the elevator.

It even hurts to walk. I don't want to walk anymore. "My feet hurt. Why do my feet hurt?" 

Without hesitation or remorse Dustin says: "I whipped the soles of your feet with the cat."

"You whipped my feet?" Yeah, I'm not comprehending much right now.

The elevator chimes and the doors open, the two guys lead me into a space I haven't seen before. They lead me through a huge kitchen, past something that looks like a racquetball court, and into a living area. There's a fireplace, and dining table, several comfortable looking recliners and a huge masculine looking bed covered in black bedding. There are windows all along the wall, but no light is coming in. Is it nighttime already? How long was I in that room?

The guys lead me to the dining table and sit me down in front of a plate of food. Harpers pulls out a chair and starts feeding me; a turkey and avocado sandwich, a sliced apple, some potato chips, and a glass of milk. Dustin goes into another room; I think it's a bathroom because I hear a shower running a few minutes later.

Harper starts feeding me and I'm too sore and exhausted to be annoyed. He asks me general and personal questions while he's feeding me. How many men have I been with? Do I like my job? Favorite TV show? Hobbies? Favorite sex position? Etc. I answer them automatically and even ask a few questions of my own, and surprisingly, he answers most of them. I only eat half the sandwich. Harper stopped feeding it to me when I tried to swallow the bite whole instead of chewing it first. It was just too much effort to chew, but Harper keeps force feeding me the chips and apple slices. 

The bathroom door opens and I turn to watch Dustin coming out. He walks behind me toward the bed; he's only wearing a white towel around his waist. While he's not ripped, he's definitely not shabby looking. He's got nice strong arms, a wide chest, and slim waist. He has some kind of tattoo on his arm. It looks like flames from his elbow up to his shoulder. Harper taps me on the nose with two fingers. Startled I turn to glare at him. "If he wanted you to look at him, he would have told you to look." 

WTF! Seriously? I must have glared at him again, because he taps me on the nose again and tells me to behave. Harper picks up another apple slice and puts it in my mouth. End of discussion.

When Dustin is dressed he comes over to the table. "How's she doing?" He's dressed in another expensive looking suit with a deep golden shirt underneath. He seems to like the autumn colors. 

Very business-like Harpers answers with "She's coherent, and she knows where she is. She's eating fairly well. She asked a few questions, most were mundane so I answered them. I wasn't sure what you wanted her to know." That's eerily secretive. What doesn't he want me to know?

"That's good. We can inspect her before I put her to bed." Wait! Inspect? What does he mean by that? "You can answer basics, but anything detailed leave for me. Is she ready?"

"Yup, good to go." Harper looks at me. "Come on, girl. Up ya go." Between the two of them they get me up and lead me toward the bed. Dustin removes my robe and tosses it on the floor. There are two chains hanging from the ceiling a few feet from the foot of the bed, and they each connect a chain to my wrist cuffs. 

Dustin steps back and behind me, I try to turn to look at him but Harper takes over. He stands right in front of me, pulling my face back to the front until I'm looking him in the eye. This is the inspection:

He moves two fingers back and forth in front of my face. "Her pupils are good and she's tracking well."

He puts his hand on my neck and looks at his watch for a few seconds."Pulse is strong. Very good."

He puts his hands on my face and gently presses his thumbs into my mouth until I open up. "Mouth is moist; gums are pink; throat looks red and slightly swollen. Cinna-Numb." He looks behind me as Dustin tosses him a small object. It's the bottle of spray Dustin used when he fucked my throat. Cinna-Numb, clever name. "Girl, take a deep breath, hold it, and open your mouth as wide as you can."

I flash back to Dustin face fucking me. I shake my head 'no'. I can't. He can't fuck me now, can he? I can't take any more. "Please, I can't. Please." 

"Shhhhh, girl. This stuff is better than cough syrup for soothing sore throats. This will help you sleep. Now, take a deep breath, hold it, and open your mouth." This time I do what he says. The blast of cinnamon is overpowering and soon I feel the familiar tingle in my mouth.

Harper then checks over my arms. "No open wounds." Dustin hands him a large plastic jar and Harper smears the contents all over my arms. It's cool and refreshing.

He checks my back. "Very nice sunburst. Clean even strokes. Two open wounds at 6 and 7 o'clock." I feel Dustin checking my lower back and grumbling. Harper has a small tube of something and gently works it into the 'open wounds' on my back. How did I get into this situation? Then he smears more gel from the large jar all over my back. I moan in pleasure as the coolness envelopes my sore skin.

Next is my front. Harper runs his hands over my sides. "No open wounds on either side." He runs his hands over my chest and breasts. "Both nipples are bruised. One small open wound on the underside of her left breast. Otherwise she's good." Again Dustin comes to check my left breast. He doesn't look happy. Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Harper uses the small tube on my breast, then the large jar everywhere else. Except for the circumstances, then massage with that gel would be a wonderful feeling. 

Harper nods to Dustin and the chains start to pull my arms up until I'm hanging about a foot above the floor. Harper checks my stomach and waist and declares no open wounds. Then he smears more goo on me.

I get pulled higher again, my feet dangling maybe 3 feet off the floor. Harper moves around to my back and Dustin moves to the front, into my line of sight. Dustin has his arms crossed with on hand on his chin. He looks worried and for some unknown reason, that scares me more than anything else tonight.

Harpers hands are on my ass. "Her ass and thighs are bruised. No open wounds. How many times did you hit her with the cane?" Three times. He hit me three times, right?

Dustin's calm and commanding voice shocks me. "Seven. Four in the back and three in the front" 

I can't help it. Even thought my throat feels funny, I too shocked not to say something. "Seven? You hit me sev..." Dustin steps forward and quickly taps my nose with two fingers, silencing me. "Quiet girl." He steps back to where he was standing before, fully expecting me to obey.

Harper continues like I hadn't even spoken, like I wasn't even there. "Damn it Dustin, you know she's a newbie. What were you thinking?"

Dustin shrugs his shoulders. "I was thinking I wanted to make her cum. And I did. Continue."

I hear Harper huff behind me and then the inspection continues. "Again, ass and thighs are bruised. No open wounds." He spreads the wonderful goo all over my ass and thighs, and then moves to stand in front of me. Dustin moves to stand off to my side. I focus on him as he is still in my line of sight.

I am up high enough that my pussy is eye level with Harper. He takes my left leg and lifts it over his shoulder. Dustin moves up and holds my ankle, keeping my leg in place. Harper runs his hands along my inner thighs. "Two open wounds on right side, one on the left." Dustin leans in to look and then hands Harper the smaller tube. Harper rubs the ointment into the cuts and applies the goo everywhere else.

Harper reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small flashlight. He turns it on and pops the end in his mouth and holds it between his teeth. My body jerks as he runs his fingers between my legs. He slaps my ass sharply and mumbles at me to be still. He continues inspecting the final part of me. His fingers slide all along my slit. I give a small groan as he presses a finger into my ass. "Her anal ring is untouched. At least you had some control today."

"Shut up. Just finish with her already." Dustin doesn't sound too happy.

Harper chuckles around the flashlight in his mouth. At least someone is enjoying this, because I am not. Harper slips his fingers inside my cunt and opens me so he can see. The flashlight shining on what used to be my most private of places. This should hurt, but I must still be numb. I can feel him spreading my pussy, his fingers deep inside me. "She has several 1st and 2nd degree vaginal tears. Don't use her cunt for two to three weeks. Do you have the Procto-Foam?"

Wait. What? "Tears? Is that what it sounds like?" Both men look at me, neither is in position to hit my nose at the moment. Dustin speaks first. "Quiet girl. I won't tell you again." 

I'm pissed now. "Don't give me that shit! Did you tear me? What does that mean?"

Dustin turns and walks to a cabinet along the wall. He pulls something out of the drawer and comes back to me. I start to demand answers and he quickly shoves a red foamy ball in my mouth. It's soft enough to form to my mouth, but hard enough that I can't get it out. I'm livid now; any exhaustion I felt is long gone. I start screaming into the gag, kicking, and pulling and twisting on the chains. 

Harper stands back and watches me struggle, a small smile on his lips. "Oh that was wonderful, Boss. You do have a way with women. She looks really mad."

"Shut up, Harper. She'll exhaust herself quick enough and we can get this over with. She does have a strength in her though. Absolutely fucking sexy as hell, isn't she?" He's watching me struggle with the same damn grin on his face. Fuckers. 

As predicted, my tantrum doesn't last long. I hang there, panting through my nose and glaring at them both. Assholes. Without saying a word, both men move to finish the inspection. My leg is again lifted over Harpers shoulder and Dustin holds it in place. A different tube is giving to Harper and he covers his fingers with it and starts applying it to my cunt, his fingers twisting and turning inside of me. 

When he's done, I'm lowered to the ground. From somewhere deep within me I find the strength to stand, glaring at them.

"Absolutely glorious! I can't believe my luck in finding her." Dustin is beaming with pride.

Harper laughs again. "If you survive this night, then I'll consider you lucky. Right now, it looks like she's ready to kill you."

"She just needs to sleep, let's get her to bed." Dustin moves to touch me. Fuck that! My hands are still attached to the chains so I kick at him. He catches me leg easily. "Very bad girl." He mocks me, pulling me forward until I'm off balance. He doesn't even look worried. What the hell did I get myself into? I lose my balance totally and fall as far as the chains allow me.

Quickly Dustin reaches for me and grabs a handful of my damp, unruly red hair, pulling my head back sharply. "Enough! No more. You are going to get into my bed, whether you walk or are dragged by your hair is up to you. Decide now."

Damn that voice; powerful, commanding, and dominant. I feel my resistance wash away as I stare up into his eyes. I can't look anymore and lower my eyes and my body follows in its submission.

"Good girl. Now get up." He helps me stand again and together they unchain my wrists and help me to the bed. Harper turns down the sheets as Dustin lays me gently in the bed. Harper says his goodbyes and heads out to return to the club. I'm alone with the shadow man again as he tucks me in bed.

I still can't look him in the eye, so I just stare at his chest. He pulls the red ball out of my mouth first. I lick my lips trying to get the taste out of my mouth, but I don't say anything. Then he runs his fingers through my hair for a few long, silent minutes. I cave first, and I'm not even sure why. "I'm sorry. Please. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, girl?" He's still playing with my hair.

"Umm." I'm not really sure myself. I say anything and everything I can think of. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry for fighting you. I'm sorry for trying to kick you. I sorry for getting cuts. I'm sorry."

"Shhhh, girl. Shhhh. Those things you don't have to apologize for. I like your strength, both your will and your physical strength. You're a newbie and I haven't taught you how to redirect it to please me yet, but that's not a big problem. In fact, it's quite normal. As for kicking me; if by some random, one-in-a-million chance I let a submissive hurt me, it will be my fault, not theirs. The cuts on you were my mistake, not yours. I lost control when I should have been more careful with you. I promise it won't happen again." 

I notice that last one wasn't an apology, but the shadow man doesn't seem to be the type of man who apologizes much. He kisses my forehead before he continues. "I'm still waiting for you to apologize for the one thing you did do wrong." I look up, confused. My mind is racing through as much of the night as I can remember, trying to figure it out. No such luck. Dustin smiles down at my panic and whispers: "Did you or did you not call me an asshole on several occasions?"




Just Curious Ch. 04



Well, here's the last part of this story. Enjoy! 

*

My reentry into the waking world is slow. My eyes open and I watch the dust motes swirling in the filtered sun coming through the darkened windows. I hear a soft, low thrumming sound besides me and I can't figure out why a motor would be running in here. I look up at my arms and they are still attached to the bed with chains only a few inches long. I lift my head and try to find whatever is making that noise. Off to my side, where Dustin slept last night, is a sleek grey ball of fur. The head moves slightly and a single large green eye sleepily opens and focuses on me for a second before closing and drifting off to sleep again. The cat never stops purring. Great, Dustin is a shape-shifter. That wouldn't surprise me. 

I need to pee.

I look around for Dustin, or even Harper, but no one is around. I try to pull at the chains again, but that just adds pressure on my bladder. The cuffs look like they are just secured with a belt buckle. I scoot up closer to the headboard, ignoring the throbbing coming from my back and everywhere else. Using my teeth, I pry the leather strap out of the buckle. It sounds easy, but it actually took several minutes. When I get it out I take it in my teeth and pull, trying to dislodge the prong from the small hole in the belt. A strong final tug and the prong pops out. Success! It's at that moment that I glance around and see Dustin standing just outside the bathroom door. I check to see if the cat is still there. It is, so my shape-shifter theory is crap. I really need to stop reading science fiction stories.

Dustin just stands there, wrapped in a towel, staring at me. "Can you give me a hand? I need to use the bathroom." I start working on my other wrist, which is much easier with the use of my free hand. By the time Dustin gets to the bed, both my wrists are free and he helps me sit up in the bed. I get a better look at the tattoo on his arm. It's a phoenix from his elbow to his shoulder. He hasn't spoken to me yet, but he does help me to the bathroom and then leaves. I don't know if this is his natural personality, or if something happened, but he seems very cold toward me today.

When I get up to wash my hands is the first time I notice the rather large black cloth covering the mirror. I look at it for a minute before I realize that it's there so I can't see myself. Dustin has returned and is standing in the doorway. He's dressed casually in khakis and a t-shirt. He doesn't look happy. I point at the cloth over the mirror. "Is that for me? So I can't see what you did to my back. How bad is it? What do I look like?"

Dustin walks up to me, grabs a handful of my hair, and forces me to bend over the counter. He presses down and holds me there, the faucet from the sink digging into my shoulder. His voice is dark and commanding when he finally speaks to me. "You look like a well used submissive. My marks are shining against your pale white skin. My cum is drying on you cheek and lips." This last line is said as a very dangerous growl. "And my restraints were on your wrists when I left you." 

I can feel my body trembling. Through everything last night, Dustin was never angry at me. But now I can tell he's livid. He shakes me a little to emphasize his point. "You NEVER release bonds you've been placed in. Never!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You will be. You were prefect last night. Why? Why did you think you could just remove your cuffs?" He's still holding me down, waiting for an answer.

It never even occurred to me that I couldn't take them off. "I just...I had to pee. I looked, but didn't see you or Harper. I didn't know it was bad. I just had to pee." Even to my ears that sounded lame.

"I was going to go easy on you today. But it seems like I have to re-establish who is in charge here. Make sure you know who owns you. Make sure you know that pleasing me is your only concern."

Dustin releases me, but I don't move an inch. He steps out of the bathroom and returns quickly with a small case and puts it on the counter next to me. He opens it and I see four silver bulbs, each one has a stem and a base. Each of the four bulbs gets progressively bigger. Fuck. Those are anal plugs. Hell no.

I try to stand, but Dustin is quicker. He leans his body on top of mine and grabs the smallest of the butt plugs. "Stop. Stay put."

"Please. I said I was sorry."

"Too little, too late, girl. Stay put." He lifts off me and takes the smallest plug out of the case. I watch; part fascinated part fearful, as he spreads lube over the bulb. Without any other warning, he places the plug against my star and starts pressing it into me. He doesn't shove it in me, but the pressure constantly increases. He doesn't say a word, and I automatically clench my ass trying to keep it out. Eventually the pressure gets too much and the silver plugs slips past my sphincter and lodges itself in my ass. With a grunt I try to push it out, but it's stuck. Dustin twists it a few times, just to watch my reaction.

Dustin pulls me by the hair till I'm standing and leads me back to the bed. He pushes me down and climbs on top of me, sitting on my chest. There is an uncomfortable pressure in my ass. From the nightstand he grabs a new set of cuffs and attaches them to my wrists. He takes one wrist and lifts it above my head and padlocks it to the chain. He does them same with the other wrist. He sits back and watches me inspect the new accruements. 

I look back at him. "I'm really sorry, Dustin. Please don't do this." 

"Shhh, girl. This is going to happen, just accept it. It's Saturday, and I'm going to go play some golf. Harper will take care of you until I get back. You are in enough trouble already, so be nice and do everything Harper tells you to." He places his hands on either side of my face and looks into my eyes. "When I get back, you are going to beg me to fuck your ass. Do you understand?"

Trembling, I look for some hint of softness in his face, there is none. He's completely serious. "Yes, Dustin, I understand."

He looks at me for a while longer, then without a word, gets up and leaves. He didn't even pull the covers over me.

**********

I lay there for maybe 45 minutes before Harper comes into the room. He walks toward the bed, not saying a word. He stops along side and looks me over from head to foot. "I hear you were a very bad girl. And you were doing so well yesterday. You know you can't release your bonds. Why would you do something like that?"

"I just had to use the bathroom. No one was around. I looked. Please I didn't mean it. Please don't let him fuck my ass. Please." 

Harper runs his hands over my chest. "That's not my call. I just have to prep you for Dustin." He reaches up and with a small key unlocks my wrist cuffs. He helps me stand and walks me around the large apartment before sitting me down at the kitchen table. The plug in my ass is still noticeable, but it's not so very uncomfortable anymore. That being said, I still didn't want to walk with it inside me, but Harper said walking would keep me from cramping up. 

Harper is actually conversational again today as he fixes me breakfast. He doesn't seem mad at me, not like Dustin is anyway. He asks me a bunch of questions, mostly about sex, but some were about what I know of submission. When I'm done eating he gets me back on the bed and locks my wrists to the headboard again. He heads into the bathroom and comes out with the small case and some chains. 

"Please. Please don't do this. I can explain it to Dustin." Harper taps two fingers against my nose and tells me to shush. He takes one of the chains and clips it to my ankle cuff then pulls my leg up toward my head and clips the chain to the headboard. He repeats the procedure with the other leg. 

I'm laying on my back, bent in half, with my feet chained up near my head, but out to the side. My ass is lifted up off the bed. I hear the case opening and then silence for a minute. I can only assume he is putting lube on the second anal plug. How the hell did I get myself into this mess? I was curious, that's how. Curiosity killed the cat. Where is that grey cat, anyway? All thoughts of cats disappear as Harper starts pulling the first plug out of my ass. It's just as bad coming out as going in, but eventually it pops out. Harper quickly places the second plug against my ass and presses it inside me. Like the first one, it's not shoved in, but a constantly building pressure until it slips in with another grunt from me. 

Harper is sitting on the bed; he has a perfect view of my exposed ass and pussy. His hand slaps the base of the plug a few times; jiggling it inside of me. Then he slips his fingers through the folds of my sex. "Nice and slick, girl. I can feel the heat pouring from you." He strokes my slit a few more times before kneeling up behind me. I watch him from between my wide spread legs. He sucks his fingers clean before opening his pants and taking out his cock. I watch as he strokes his cock a few times before laying it between my legs. He doesn't enter my pussy, but slides inside the folds of my sex and starts rocking back and forth. 

"What are you, girl?" He's still sliding himself along my slit as he asks the questions.

"I'm a fuck toy. I'm yours to use." The words come out automatically now. 

"Who do you belong to?" He pinches my clit with one hand and pressing his cock harder into me. I grunt and my hips lift toward him.

"I belong to you. I'm yours to use." SLAP! He hits my tits hard. Leaning forward between my legs all motion stops. Now he looks pissed. What the hell is going on today? "You don't belong to me, girl. Never say that again. Now, who do you belong to?" This isn't a question answer thing, it's a teaching thing.

"I belong to Dustin." My voice sounds empty and life-less. Am I a slut? It doesn't matter anymore. 

"Good girl. Much better." Harper starts fake-fucking me again. I don't know what else to call it. He doesn't enter me, just thrusts his cock along my slit and between the moist folds of my sex. His cock slides along my clit, and soon my pussy begin throbbing from the sensations. Soon after that I'm begging him to make me cum. 

Harper ignores my pleas and continues pleasuring himself. After what seems like forever, he lifts himself up and strokes his cock, aiming it at me. A few seconds later the first blast of cum splashes across my face, the others don't make it that far, and land on my chest and belly. He looks down at me for a while, admiring his handiwork before I beg his to finish me off.

"Dustin gave instructions to keep you on edge, girl, but not let you go over. If you want to cum, you're going to have to wait for him to finish you off. Now, what are you going to do when Dustin returns?" He leans up and starts releasing my ankles from the headboard. The anal plug is a constant pressure in my belly.

I know the answer to this one. "I'm going to beg him to fuck my ass. Beg him to use me."

Harper climbs off the bed, leans down beside me, and kisses my forehead. "Good girl. Get some rest, and I'll see you in a little bit." He pulls the covers up as far as my waist, apparently he doesn't want it to smear the cum drying on my chest and belly. Without another word, he walks out of the room. A few minutes later the grey cat jumps up on the bed and stares at me for a while. I ask it a few questions, but it just ignores me also.

**********

I'm staring up at the ceiling when Harper returns. He unlocks the wrist cuffs and walks me around the room a few times with the plug filling my ass. I have no idea how the next two larger sizes are going to fit in me. Harper has me crawl on the bed on my hands and knees and I wait there while he goes to get the case. He talks to me again, asking about my social life and mundane things. I answer him, but I feel numb inside. He pulls out the plug and presses the third one inside me. I can feel my stomach cramping immediately. I beg him to take it out, but he just softly rubs my back trying to calm me down. After a few minutes the worst is over and Harper starts playing with my clit. I fight not to feel anything, but soon my pussy starts to drench his hand. He knows when I get close and backs off, keeping me from an orgasm, torturing me. He does this several times before he asks why I'm not begging like a good girl.

"It won't matter anyway. You won't let me cum. You won't let me go home. And you won't keep Dustin from fucking my ass." Harper fingers falter for a second before he continues like before.

"Why don't you think you can go home, girl." Still rubbing. Still driving me crazy.

"Dustin said I can't go until he's done with me. You work for him; you won't let me go home either." I try to stop it, but my hips are rocking back and forth against his fingers. I don't say the words, but my mind and body are begging him to let me cum.

When he's done he has me lie on my back again and chains me to the headboard. He asks me what I'm supposed to do when Dustin gets here, and I tell him, then he gets up to leave. Just like before. I stare at the ceiling. The fullness in my ass is just short of cramping pain. I can't sleep as my thoughts switch between panic and nothingness. I just lie there, letting my anal muscles get accustomed to being stretched. Not even the cat will keep me company now. I feel so lost. So alone.

**********

Harpers back. In the back of my mind I realize this is the last time; the last plug. He releases me and walks me around the apartment a few more times. It's harder to walk than the last two times. I don't want to stand up straight. Harper leads me into the bathroom and bends me over the sink. He hasn't said much to me this time. This time seems more ominous. 

He pulls out the butt plug and lets me use the toilet while he goes to get a bottle of water and the case. He lets me drink as much as I can before taking me into the shower stall. It's a big shower; six people could fit in here without touching. He tells me to get down on my hands and knees. After he helps me down, he leaves the bathroom again. This time he comes back with a bucket. 

He sets up behind me. I try to turn my head to see what's he's doing, but he gently gets me looking forward again. In the bucket is a bag, and plastic tube, and another plug. Even in my limited understanding of anal sex, I know where this is going. It's just that there's no way to prepare for the experience.

Harper fills the bag with water from the sink, then kneeling behind me, slowly inserts the tube into my ass. As the warm water fills me, no amount of pushing or wishing will get it out. The pressure builds into a deep throbbing cramp in my gut. I'm groaning and rocking back and forth trying to find comfort position on the cold shower floor. 

"Please stop. Please. That's enough. Please, Harper." I feel Harper next to me. He rubs my back and side where it won't hurt me, trying to calm me down. 

"Shhh girl. Just a few more minutes." Minutes? No No No It can't stay in for minutes. Harper keeps caressing me as I groan and rock back and forth. Please be over. Please be over.

Finally I feel him moving beside me. He puts the bucket behind me and tugs out the plug holding the water inside me. There's no embarrassment. No hesitation. Just a feeling of relief and joy as I get to empty my bowels. I rest on the shower floor for a few moments before I hear water running again. My relief is short lived as Harper comes back and repeats the whole procedure over again. 

Harper cleans me out a total of three agonizing times before he's satisfied. Then he stands me up and cleans me with a washcloth, avoiding the cum stains on my face and chest. He leaves those dried white marks on me. Bending me over the sink, he squeezes lube all over his fingers and inserts them in me. It doesn't hurt at all as he spreads lube all over my squeaky clean ass.

He still hasn't said much to me, except when he was trying to calm me. Now is no exception. He places one hand on the small of my back as he uses the other hand to press the fourth, and largest, plug inside me. I know it's useless but I try to keep it out. But the pressure slowly increases until I lose the battle and with a groan the plug is snuggly embedded in my ass. 

Harper stands me up and leads me back toward the bed. I expected to be chained to the headboard again, but he stops me at the foot of the bed. He uses the same chains from my 'inspection' last night, only this time the chains are padlocked. He pulls my arms up above my head, but not tightly.

He then attaches chains from the sides to my ankles and gently forces my legs apart. In normal circumstances, this wouldn't be a big problem. But with a huge plug up my ass I resist as much as I can until Harper swats my ass and tells me to be good. 

Harper stands behind me several times, kicking my feet wider and wider, until my ass is at the correct height. Then he uses the chains to finish pulling my arms high above my head. Being forced to stand upright with my legs spread wide is almost more than I can tolerate. The butt plug feels like it is pushing all my other organs out of place. I beg again, but Harper doesn't release me. I didn't expect him to, but the circumstances demanded I try.

The other times when he left, he asked me what I was going to do when Dustin returned, but this time he just presses his hand against my cheek and looks me in the eye for a few seconds before he leaves. He just leaves me hanging there at the foot of the bed, waiting for Dustin.

**********

Harper is sitting at the bar, nursing a seltzer water, waiting. Just waiting. He can't believe his friend would do this, but he has to know for sure. He's known Dustin for over a decade. He has to give him the benefit of the doubt. Finally, the door from the garage opens and Dustin walks into the bar.

"Hey Harper, how's my girl?" He walks toward the bar where Harper is sitting.

Harper slowly turns toward his boss. "She's prepped and ready to go. But we need to have a discussion first."

"It can wait. I've been anticipating this for hours." Dustin turns and heads for the elevator. 

"Dustin. NO." Harper stands to face his boss.

"No! No what?" Both men are standing, facing each other. Two dominants, neither accustomed nor willing to back down.

"You've been acting strange and I have some questions for you."

"Questions can wait. I'll talk to you later." Dustin looks extremely irritated right now. But Harper won't back down.

"We'll talk now. I've never known you to mark a submissive during play, yet the girl up there has several open wounds on her. You've lost your control, and if you go up there now, you'll do even more damage. This 'punishment' is wrong, and you know it. I honestly don't believe she knew that releasing her chains was wrong. Punishing someone for breaking the rules is one thing, but punishing them because YOU didn't teach them the rules is something else entirely. You don't use sex as punishment any more than I do, and certainly not first-time anal sex. So why is she up there with a plug up her ass? Did she ever have the option of stopping this? Did you give her a safeword? Does she even know what safewords are? Do you know how much she can really handle?"

"She took it, Harper. Every lash, every whip, she even came from just the cane. There's no damage done that won't heal. She's strong, Harper. So fucking strong. She'll beg for more. I know she will."

"Boss, she's broken. You broke her! She's not completely cognizant anymore. She knows where she is, but other than that, I'm not sure where her thought patterns go. She was not embarrassed by anything I did to her today. She just accepted it. Her affect is flat; unfeeling. I asked her question after question and she responded without emotion."




Just Curious Ch. 04



"She's just tired. She had a hard day on Friday." Dustin's excuse is pathetic, even he knows it.

"She stopped begging. When I asked her why, she said it wouldn't matter anyway, so why bother. Dustin, do you have any idea why she thought it wouldn't matter? Do you?"

Dustin just stares at him, not quite sure where this is going, but not wanting to commit himself to anything unnecessarily. Harper stares back before picking up the remote and turning on the three TV's behind the bar.

There's a red-headed woman strapped to a bench. One TV has a side view of her long legs bent and pulled foreword, securing her to the bench. The second TV has a wide shot of the girl and the room. On the third TV, the girl is blankly staring at the camera, waiting. 

The door opens and Dustin walks in. The girl hears the door open, but can't see who's behind her. So she waits. Dustin walks up to her before she finally speaks. "Hello. Is someone there?"

"Shhhh girl." Dustin places his hand on her ass, admiring his handiwork. He gently strokes the sunburst pattern he put on her back. The girl hisses and squeezes her eyes shut as he touches the more tender spots.

"Can I go home now?" A moment passes as Dustin remains motionless.

"No. I'm not done with you yet." He watches, fascinated, as a shiver rolls across her body.

Harper hits the pause button and turns back to his boss. "She asked to go home! Why is she still here, Dustin? Why?

Dustin just stares at Harper; there is nothing he can say. There are rules in this house that no one is allowed to break, and he knows he has broken several of them in the last 24 hours. He just had to see how far she could go. He had to.

Harper starts in again. He's demanding answers. "Why is she still here? Did she recant? You know I'll confirm it on the video before I let you go up there, so don't even think of lying to me?"

"I don't lie!"

"Any other day, I'd agree with you, but I don't know what you're capable of today. Why is she still here? She asked to go home. Why is she still here?" Harper won't back down. Something is seriously wrong with Dustin. He has never harmed a submissive this way before.

"I couldn't let her go. I just...couldn't." Dustin never acts like this. He always knows what he's doing, why he's doing it, and when to stop. Now he just seems lost. As lost as the girl hanging from chains upstairs.

The two men stare at each other, both trying to figure out what to do next. Harper speaks first. "I'm taking her home. I'm taking her home right now."

For a split second a look of panic flashes across Dustin face. "No, she's mine!"

"Right now I wouldn't trust you with a loaf of bread, much less a human being. I'm taking her home, Dustin. She asked to go home. Don't screw this up any more than you already have."

"You can't. Please, just let me talk to her." Harper can see how much those simple words affect his friend.

For several long minutes, both men continue to stare at each other, neither able to back down. Harper is still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Dustin just begged him for something; begged. Even after everything that has gone wrong today, he never expected that. 

Both men jump as a loud pounding sound comes from out of nowhere, but neither breaks eye contact. After a few moments the pounding continues. At the same time, Harper turns to answer the door and Dustin pulls out his phone to check the security cameras. The short list of people who would be pounding on the door gets a lot shorter as Harper hears a very loud and surprisingly creative slew of curses leave Dustin's mouth. 

**********

I just stand there with my feet spread wide apart. I tried putting some of the weight on my arms, but that actually hurt more than just standing. My back is pulled straight up, and all I want to do is curl into a ball to try and relieve the pressure in my gut. At least the pain in my ass (haha I made a funny) has diminished into a dull stretching sensation. I don't know how long I hang/stand there, maybe ten minutes so far. I've spent the better part of those long minutes trying to figure out how I feel. And I can honestly say; I have no idea. I'm completely blank inside.

It been another half an hour, and I've found my zen place again. I'm just waiting, and to be honest, there's not much else for me to do. My zen and my calm disappear instantly when I hear the elevator chime. Straining my ears, I hear footsteps approaching. It isn't until they enter the room that I realize there are two sets of footsteps. Dustin and Harper are both here. Crap! My calm is replaced by a deep feeling of helplessness, and the worst part is that it seems to be manifesting itself in my pussy. Why do I get wet and horny whenever that man walks into the same room as me? I feel like Pavlov's dog. 

The footsteps stop behind me, and I wait for something to happen. I know they're back there, but nothing happens. Then I remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Am I supposed to wait, or just start immediately? Shit! I don't know.

"Please Dustin, I'm sorry. I'll never untie myself again. I swear. Please. I'm sorry." Now for the really hard part. "Please, please Dustin, fuck my ass. I'm yours. Yours to use. Yours to hurt. Yours to fuck. Use my mouth, my pussy, my ass. Anything. I'm your fucktoy. Please use my ass Dustin. Please."

I wait and I listen as a tremor courses through me. Is this really going to happen? Please don't let it hurt too much. It can't hurt any more than yesterday, right? After an eternity of silence, one pair of shoes starts walking again, I can hear it circling behind me and slowly coming around to the front. My heart stops.

An almost physical pain bursts into my chest. Worse than anything I felt yesterday. No. No. No, not this. Please anything but this. Please. Tears start flowing instantly. It's not Dustin. It's not even Harper. It's Jared, my boss. The man who's been like a father to me since I started working for him six years ago. I just want to die.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was just curious. Please, I didn't mean to. I just came to get my car. I needed my car. I couldn't help it. It just... everything just...happened. Please, I'm so sorry. Please, I just wanted to know what it was like. I was just curious." I can't talk anymore through the tears. My legs gave out on me somewhere in the last few seconds and I just hang there, crying uncontrollably. Jared hasn't said a word; he hasn't touched me; he hasn't helped me. He's just looking me over from head to foot. He sees every inch of me; every mark Dustin has put on me; the lines of cum dried on my face and chest; he's heard me beg; and he's seen the plug embedded in my ass. I just want to die.

Finally Dustin comes into my line of sight and he and Jared are both standing in front of me, ignoring me. This is so surreal. It's like a face-off. Both men are standing there; feet are shoulder width apart; arms resting at their sides, fingers curled and relaxed; backs straight; shoulders back; eyes fixed on each other and nothing else. This display goes on for several long moments before Jared speaks first.

"Release her bindings and bring me her clothes. I'm taking her home."

Dustin is not having any of it. "She's mine. She's here voluntarily and I'm not done with her yet."

"She's my responsibility. She's my employee. She's my friend. I'm the one who brought her here. I'm responsible for her and I'm going to take her out of here."

"She's mine. She " Jared won't hear anymore and interrupts. "Dustin! Look at her. She's had enough. Let her go. Now! I won't let you touch her again. Let her go or I'll call a council meeting and let the others decide." I'm not sure what that means, but it means something to Dustin.

Dustin is ready to fight for this girl, but then he remembers the video Harper showed him right before Jared started pounding on the door. Shit! He knows if that scene is played, he'll lose the girl anyway. Fuck! With one last look of disdain, Dustin starts releasing the girls' ankles, then her wrists. He and Jared guide her to the floor. He takes one last look at his girl and goes to get her clothes from the second floor audio/video room. 

Jared holds the trembling girl. She looks and seems so different from the woman he works with that he can't see them as the same person. He can't believe the amount of markings on her pale flesh. Dustin worked her over good. He starts talking to her, letting her know she's OK and she's safe. Eventually he reaches behind her and strokes her ass a few times before pulling out the butt plug.

Dustin returns with her clothes and a white paper bag. The two men get the girl dressed and help her to the elevator and down to the main floor. Jared finds her car keys and puts her in the passenger seat of her own car before walking around to the driver's side. Dustin hands him the white bag and Jared eyes him suspiciously. "It's only ointment for her skin." 

"That's an awfully lot of ointment. What else is in there?"

"Don't be so dramatic. It doesn't suit you, Jared. It's cooling cream, anti-scar gel, and Procto-Foam."

Jared is ready to blow when Dustin mentions the Procto-Foam. But he controls himself, barely. "Don't ever touch her again! Don't ever call her. Don't ever speak to her. You will have no contact what-so-ever with her. Do you understand?"

Dustin just glares at him. The nerve of the man giving him orders. It's bad enough he's losing his girl, but to be scolded like a dog. How can one day be so absolutely perfect, and then next one be total crap? 

Jared won't back down. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand." Forced through gritted teeth. 

"I'll be back after I get her settled. Don't go anywhere. I'm not done with you yet." Without waiting for an answer he climbs in the car, starts the engine and drives his friend home. Dustin watches helplessly as another man takes his girl away, he knows the painful truth is he'll never see her again. 

The drive home is uneventful. Silent tears stream down her face as Jared takes her home. He helps her into her house and upstairs to her bedroom. He starts to undress her, and she balks at this, but a sharp word from him and she relents. When the hell did she become this submissive? Was she always like that and I just missed it? Or did Dustin bring this out of her? She lets him strip her and then he helps her into the shower. Jared wets a washcloth and starts cleaning her up. He has to scrub her face to get the dried cum off her face. She starts crying again, and he tells her it's OK, and that she's going to be all right. 

After the shower, he checks the white paper bag, and applies the various substances all over her trembling body. She doesn't resist. She seems so broken. He helps her into bed and waits until she falls asleep. He leaves a note telling her he'll check on her later. He kisses her forehead, and heads downstairs to call a cab. He has to go make sure Dustin will never touch her again. While waiting for the cab to arrive, he checks the kitchen and finds it completely empty; not a scrap of food left. He'll have to bring some groceries when he comes back later tonight.

Jared checks up on her later in the evening. He has a huge headache after what turned out to be several intense hours dealing with Dustin. The man has gone completely off the deep end. He brings several bags of food and some Chinese for supper. He talks to her, answers her questions, and tries to reassure her. He gives her the next week off, saying he'll tell everyone it's the flu. After putting the groceries away, he settles her into bed, locks up the house, and heads home.

**********

She spends the next few days in a fog. Her body is feeling stronger every day and her skin is healing up nicely. She can't help herself and looks at it in the bathroom mirror several times a day. Jared stops by twice a day to check up on her. She sleeps, showers, and watches TV. Eventually boredom takes a hold and she starts cleaning, small projects first; taking out the garbage, cleaning some dishes. Soon the small projects are done and she tackles something larger; laundry. She starts with the bedding, giving her time to sort through the dirty clothes. 

She sorts the lights and the darks. When she gets to the clothes she wore on that day; the day everything changed, she pauses, running her hands over the fabric. She forces herself to put it down, trying to push down the memories flooding her brain. When she picks up the jeans she wore, she notices there are things in the pockets. She finds lip balm, cash and coupons in one pocket and in the other is a small card. She pulls it out and her heart stops. It's a business card; flat black with a glossy black whip snaking along the bottom. On top in bold metallic silver is a phone number; HIS phone number. 

She turns it over. Blank, the other side is blank. There's nothing else on the card but the whip and the number. She presses it against her chest and drops to the floor. Now what? She closes her eyes, trying not to cry. Why? Why is this happening? She stares at the number again. What should I do? Her breathing is ragged. She presses the card against her breast and curls into a ball. This can't be happening. Please, don't let this be happening. Even when he's not in the room, the shadow man can still affect me to my core.

She clutches onto the card, his card, with one hand and her other hand slips between her legs. She hasn't masturbated since that day, partially because she was so sore, and partially because she was so scared. The memories and feelings come flooding back into her brain. She gets herself onto her knees, her fingers still dancing over her little nub. She feels the pain from the bruise on her clit, and she feels the pleasure her fingers are bringing her. Her thoughts are of the shadow man, the club, the whips and the pain. Her body is quivering with pent up pleasure. 

She squeezes the black card tighter. "Please let me cum. Please. I'm yours. Please make me cum." She feels the first wave of orgasm wash over her, with her hand still working between her legs, she lets the wonderful energy flow throughout her body. She's rocking back and forth, curled into a little helpless ball on the floor; begging a memory for her release. What's wrong with me?

She continues to rock back and forth on the floor. She's crying again. She swore she was done with all the useless crying. 

Out loud and to no one in particular she says: "I'm so lost. Please help me, I'm so lost."

The End

As I said before, there is a storyline where these two get back together and try to fix this mess, but that's still jumbling around in my head, and nowhere near ready to put to paper. So don't look for it anytime soon. All I can promise is eventually; hopefully.

*

I hope you enjoyed it.

Don't forget to feed the author: vote/comment/e-mail



Just Curious Ch. 05



Hello my pervy readers. The second part of Just Curious is done. This story took almost a year to write, and it 218 MS Word pages long. As before, I'll submit one chapter per week. I've broken it into 6 chapters. Enjoy, and please feed the author. 

********* 

Thursday. It's been five days since I was rescued by Jarod. Rescued might not be the right word, but it's as close as I can come to the right word. My wounds have been healing nicely, I even ventured out of the house yesterday and sat on the pier for a while, soaking up the sun and watching the waves. Jarod still checks up on me twice a day. He asks how I am, but I just can't tell him. He means well, but I couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment, anger, or shock on his face again. The image of him when he found me bound, whipped, and begging for more is etched in my memory. It still breaks my heart.

I think about Dustin every day. When I inspect the marks slowly fading on my skin, when I feel a twinge or an ache where he hurt me, and especially when I touch myself. I've thrown that damn business card away so many times, but it always finds its way back into my hand. I tried to burn it once, but I just couldn't let the flame consume it; I just couldn't. All I could do was stare at the mangled card. The corners are tattered; the metallic silver numbering is starting to fade where my thumb caresses it; it has multiple creases where my hand crushed it while my body exploded with pleasure. 

It's almost 5:30; Jarod should be stopping by soon so I should probably try to compose myself. He's trying to be helpful, but I think I just need to be alone. I hear my cell phone ringing in the living room, so I go and answer it. It's Jarod, I wonder what's up.

"Hey Jarod"

"Hey. How are you doing?" He sounds nervous.

"I'm good. Are you still stopping by tonight?"

"uummmmm... Not so much. I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to the front door and open it."

"What? Why? What's at the front door?" I turn to the door, but it's solid, and I wouldn't be able to see anything unless I went to the window first.

"I need you to trust me. Please go to the front door and open it. I'm sorry, but I'm just not able to give you the help you need right now. Go open the door." That last one was an order. Jared's never done that to me before. My nervousness level just skyrocketed. "I don't know what else to do for you, but I think you need this. You can call me afterwards if you want." With that, he hangs up. Now what?

I slowly walk to the door. It didn't sound like he was sending me flowers. I try to figure out what it could be as I slowly open the door. I am greeted by a huge chest; not a box, but a man's chest. A large man. I look up to see the face of the man attached to the chest. He's has dark, almost black hair, dark almond eyes, and a beautiful smile. Not sure what else to do, I say "Hi."

He extends his hand and his deep masculine voice washes over me. "Hi, I'm Marcus. Jarod thought I should drop by and check on you tonight." I take his hand in mine and shake it. I'm still intimidated/awed by his sheer size. I'm tall, but this guy has to be at least 6'8"; and huge. He looks like a body builder or a bouncer or something. A really well dressed body builder, but ... huge!

I pull my hand back, still not quite sure what's going on. "Well, I'm fine. Ummm, but thanks for checking on me." Why is he here? Can I just close the door on him?

I see his eyes darken just a bit. "Look girl, I flew in on the tiniest two-seater flying deathtrap this morning, spent the last several hours in an intense discussion with Dustin and Harper. I have a headache, and my day is only going to get worse from here. Do us both a favor and invite me in." 

The command in that last sentence is unmistakable. This man is like Dustin. That dark voice sends shivers down my spine. I take a step to the side and he ducks as he enters my home; my sanctuary. Now I'm confused, nervous, scared, and believe-it-or-not I think I'm starting to get wet. Damn.

He looks around my living room, then heads to the dining room and sits himself down at the table. He brings a canvas bag with him that he places on the tabletop, off to the side. I'm still standing by the door, watching him make himself at home. He sits at the table for a few seconds with his back to me, not doing anything. Slowly he turns around and looks directly at me; he raises his hand and wiggles his finger in a 'come here right now' kind of motion.

Duh. I feel like an idiot. I close the door and walk over to the table, sitting on the other side of him. He's has a slightly Spanish or Mexican look to him, but I didn't notice any accent when he talked before. He's clean shaven, well-groomed, dressed in a business-casual suit and tie, and still huge. He's just watching me and it's making me more nervous. Eventually I just look away and trace my fingers on the tabletop.

This silent observation goes on for several minutes. Why did Jarod do this to me? What does this guy want? Who is he? "What do you want?" OK, that wasn't the most polite moment of my life, but I didn't know what else to say and I couldn't just sit there anymore.

Marcus watches me for a bit longer, almost like he's still trying to decide something. He takes a deep breath, almost a sigh. "I need to see your wounds." 

Ummm I was expecting more of a conversation or explanation or something. Anything. I'm just about to ask a million questions, when he speaks again. "Take off your clothes for me."

"What? No! No way." He's gotta be kidding, right? 

He's calmly looking at me. I can tell he has a headache by the way his brow is creased. "You trust Jared, right? Jared asked me to come here and check on you. If you trust Jared, then you need to trust me right now. I know Dustin hurt you, but I need to see it for myself. There are a lot of difficult things I need to discuss with you today, and this is just the start. Please, take your clothes off so I can check your wounds."

I just stare at him, processing his words. I have one of those 'what the hell' moments; also known as 'moments of complete stupidity.' Everyone has them, when you do stuff completely out of character and afterward you don't really know why. I've been stripped naked before three guys already, what's one more? And I think, somewhere, deep down inside my confused damaged little psyche, I'm proud of those marks. I earned those marks.

I stand and stare directly at Marcus as I take my shirt off, then my bra, then slip my shorts off and place them all on the tabletop. Marcus looks me up and down, settling for a few seconds on my panties. "All of it."

"No." I have to protect some part of me to keep my sanity, and this is how I'm going to do it.

He watches me for another few seconds and raises his arm toward me, hand open and palm up. I put my hand in his, and I feel his warmth through my fingers. He gently pulls me toward him. He systematically checks my arms, my breasts, and my belly. Then he turns me around and checks the sunburst slowly fading on my back, he checks the back of my legs, and the inside of my thighs. Satisfied, he thanks me and tells me I can get dressed again.

I dress as efficiently as I got undressed and sit back down at the table. I stare at my hands again. It suddenly dawns on me that while I thought I was being strong and brave, Marcus was the one who just set the tone for this whole encounter. Whatever this turns out to be? He's going to ask for things, and I'm going to do them. I look up at him.

"Thank you for not fighting or arguing too much. Like I said earlier, this has been a long hard day already, and it's not even close to being over. I've spent most of the day talking with Dustin and Harper. He's still obsessed with you, but I think we've managed to make him understand that he's not to come near you ever again. I'm not guaranteeing that in writing, but I'm confident he understands the consequences if he does."

"What consequences? What's going on? Who are you? Why are you here?" Questions just tumble out of my mouth. He raises his hand to silence me. 

"My name is Marcus, and for lack of a better word, I'm Dustin's mentor. So the brunt of this mess falls to me. Harper called me Saturday to tell me what happened, and at first I thought he was joking. Dustin has a very good track record with his submissives, what I saw on that video was vicious. What happened to ..."

"You saw me? You saw the video in that room?" Panic is starting to set in. Who else has seen it? What's going to happen to it? 

"Calm down. Calm down. Harper has the video; although I'm not 100% sure Dustin doesn't have a copy of it somewhere. It's not going to be downloaded or sold at the local video store. You're going to have to trust me on this one. I know I'm going to ask you that a lot today, but this is a mess from top to bottom, and I'm going to do my best to clean it up."

"Who else has seen the video?" 

"Harper skimmed through it when you were being prepped for anal. That's when he stopped everything. Then when Jared got you safely home, he returned to the club and demanded to see it. At that point, he and Harper watched the whole thing together. After that they called me, and I saw the edited version this morning. Per Harper, no one else has seen it." 

"Jared saw it!" My boss! My friend! He saw everything. My head drops to the table with a thud. 

Marcus doesn't move to touch me; he just sits there and waits until I look up again. "Jared is a good friend, and he's rightfully worried about you. He wants to help you. What happened to you was brutal, and never should have gone that far."

"Jared got me out if there. You said Harper stopped it, but it was Jared." I keep trying to find some flaw in this, something to convince me this is just a really bad dream. I try to remember what happened to me. What did Jarod all see when he watched it, but I just can't seem to remember much of that day?

Marcus is still calmly letting me try to piece this back together again. "Actually Harper had just shut Dustin down and was trying to take you home when Jared showed up. Between the two of them, they forced Dustin to let you go. He really didn't have any choice but to let them take you home." I just stare at him. Is this true? I don't know if I should trust him or not, except that Jared sent him here. That's all I have to go on. I'm starting to feel lost again. If I start crying again, I'm going to be livid. I haven't cried in two days. I need to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"What else? You said there were several things we had to go over. What are they?" 

Marcus smiles. "Harper said you had a streak of bluntness in you. I even think he called it 'cute', and I would have to agree with him" I roll my eyes at him, men are dorks.

"So, back on topic. Dustin's actions with you are ..." Here he pauses as he tries to find the right word. "punishable. He broke three laws that all dominants in this club adhere to. Even though he owns the club, he is still bound by those laws. This is why I'm here. Harper is his employee, he has too many ties to Dustin to be objective; and Jared deferred to me also, as I have some experience in this."

"What laws? What punishment?" It never occurred to me that Dustin could be punished. 

"Dustin broke three laws. First is he did not get informed consent before he played with you. You needed to know what was going to happen and consent to it. He just took what he wanted. Second, he broke your skin. Some people and clubs allow that, but Dustin does not. He doesn't allow it on the stage or in the private rooms. It's hard to control and it could leave permanent scars. Neither of those are acceptable. There are a few rare exceptions to this rule, but none of them apply to your situation. Third, and this is the biggie of the three; he did not release you when you asked to go home."

"I asked to go home?" Another thing I don't remember.

"You did. After the first whipping, but before the oral sex. At that moment, Dustin should have released you, gotten you dressed, and helped you home. No questions asked. No exceptions. For those three things, he will be punished tonight."

I don't want to ask, but I have to know. "How will he be punished?" I watch Marcus; I need to know what's going to happen to Dustin. I don't know why. I just need to know.

"I'm going to whip him tonight at the club. Ten strikes for each infraction." He's watching me for my reaction.

"You can't!" The shock is showing on my face. He can't whip Dustin 30 times.

"I can. He broke the rules, he gets punished. Simple as that. He understands and accepts it; you really don't have a say in it one way or another."

Getting dismissed like that just sets me off. The fucker. I start standing up, ready to throw this asshole out of my house. Marcus gives me this look and lifts his hands stopping me. "Don't even start with me, girl. It's been a long day." He stares at me till I sit back down, glaring at him. He just calmly looks at me. "Do you want to watch?"

"What?" 

"You are the victim. Do you want to go to the club tonight and witness Dustin's punishment?" Again he's watching my reaction. Maybe he can read my mind like Dustin could.

I don't want to go back to that club. I'm not sure if I want to see Dustin again, even though he haunts my dreams at night. I don't want to see him, or anybody else, whipped. Do I? Do I want to see someone whipped? I think back to the first night at the club, those two stage acts. Maybe I do? Marcus is still watching me, waiting for me to decide. I look at him for a few seconds before I look down at the table top and shake my head no. I got so lost there, I'm not sure I can survive going back.

"It's your choice. There is no right or wrong answer. If you change your mind, just call Jared, and he'll make sure you're allowed in. Now, we're almost done. Only two more things, then I will leave you." He watches me, but I don't have anything to say. It's almost over.

He stands up and stretches; easily touching the ceiling with his hands. He reaches over and grabs the canvas bag he brought. "What shoes did you wear to the club?"

"What?" I seem to be saying that a lot today. I truly wish this conversation had some sort of linear aspect to it. It just keeps jumping around from one topic to another.

He motions to the two shoe racks by the kitchen door behind me. I turn to them. "Which shoes did you wear to the club the day Dustin played with you?" I look at him for another long second, still not knowing what's going on. I walk into the kitchen and grab the sandals I wore that day. "Why do you want these?" 

He takes them and drops them into the canvas bag. "Now the clothes. What clothes did you wear that day?" He took my sandals! I like those sandals. I'm just staring at him now, this is so bizarre. He motions for me to move, so I start walking to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs I turn to look at Marcus again, I'm not sure I want him in my bedroom. He's calm and confident. He motions with his head for me to continue, so I start climbing the stairs. As he looks around my bedroom, I go to my dresser and find the shirt and jeans I wore that day. Marcus drops them in his bag. "Bra and panties too."

I open the top drawer and look through my unmentionables. "I'm not sure which ones I wore." He steps toward me and unabashedly rifles through my things, eventually finding two that he seems to approve of and drops them in the bag also.

"How do you know those are the right ones?" 

Marcus smiles at me. "I saw them just this morning, remember? Not something a man easily forgets." That was the first thing complimentary or even sexual he has said since he got here.

"I know Dustin gave you some creams and ointments for your skin, where are those?" I point to the bathroom; they're just sitting on the countertop. I watch as he takes the three items, and replaces them with three from his bag. He comes back out and tells me to use those instead.

"What else?" I just watch him, shaking my head no. His eyes darken. "What else do you have from that day? Jewelry, sunglasses, a memento, everything, anything?" The business card! He's fishing, so he doesn't know what it is, but he wants the card. I shake my head. "That's all. There's nothing else."

He reaches out with his free hand and grabs my hair. He pulls me into his chest, then steps forward, pinning my body between his massive frame and the equally large dresser. The heat from his body is searing me as the handles from the dresser dig into my back. He leans his head down and growls in my ear. "Give. It. To. Me. Now!"

As quickly as it started he releases me. I stumble a bit, but move toward the nightstand. With a shaking hand, I pick up the small, mangled card and clutch it to my chest. The voice again. "Give it to me." No no no no I can't.

Marcus lays the bag down and comes up behind me. "No." He can't have it. "It's mine." He reaches around me. His hands on me, trying to pry the small object out of my hands. I feel his strength as he pulls at my arms. I can't match that, so I start squirming, maybe I can break his hold on me. "No." I can feel the tears start to flow down my cheeks. It's mine.

I'm thrown onto the bed. The large arms still wrapped around me, his weight pressing me down. He forces me onto my back and pulls my arms apart and traps one down with his knee. Holding my other arm, he starts prying my fingers open. Panicking, I start blindly kicking and screaming. His weight pins me down, and a large hand covers my mouth, and the other hand is still getting closer and closer to the business card. 

The card tears in two and Marcus quickly grabs both pieces and puts them where I can't see them. I'm crying uncontrollably on the bed. I can feel myself falling into the same darkness that was consuming me when I was with Dustin. He gave me that card. He wanted me to have it. And now it's gone. Does he know already? Is he disappointed? "Please, it's mine. Please give it back." The stranger is holding me gently, petting my hair and slowly rocking me back and forth. He's whispering in my ear, telling me it'll be OK. Eventually I stop crying, and the man just holds me.

I turn my head to look at him. "Please, please can I have it back? I need it."

Marcus gently wipes the tears off my face. "Shhhhh Shhhhh You can't have it back. You need to move forward, and this will only hold you back. You are strong, and beautiful, and a survivor. You will get through this. You will. I swear it."

He holds me for a few more minutes until I'm ready to move again. Marcus picks up the bag and helps me off the bed and we both go downstairs. I feel completely broken. Everything is gone. Dustin is gone. He guides me to the sofa and helps me sit, and then he sits on the chair across from me.

We sit in silence for a few more minutes. I think he knows I won't understand anything if he speaks right now. The silence continues until my mind stops reeling and I start thinking again. Marcus doesn't seem inclined to speak first, so it's up to me to get this horrible meeting over with.

"What's the second thing? You said there were two things left to do here. The first was to take my stuff, now what's the second thing, so I can get you out of my home?" 

"Blunt and to the point, although not so cute this time." He watches me again. I don't know how to read him, so I just sit and wait. 

"Your introduction to our world was not ideal." I can tell he's fumbling for the right words again. "I would like the opportunity to show you how it should have been."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" I don't want cryptic puzzles right now.

Marcus takes a deep breath. "In a few weeks, when you've had more time to heal, I'd like you to fly to Las Vegas for a week so I can show you how a submissive is played with properly."




Just Curious Ch. 05



I just stare at him, dumbfounded. What did he just say? "You want me to go to Vegas ... so you can fuck me?"

"I would like to show you what dominance and submission is. What you went through is not ..." I don't hear anymore of his words. I don't want to hear anything more from this man. It's surprising how I can go from feeling completely broken and lost to being angry enough to kill in such a small amount of time. Without thinking I launch myself at this man invading my home. 

In a flash, Marcus moves and counters my attack. I'm pinned to the ground in my own living room in a matter of seconds. For such a huge man, this guy can move very fast. 'Get off of me." I try kicking, and clawing, and biting him, but he easily blocks every move I make. "Get off me."

"Listen to me. You need to listen to me." He rolls on top of me, grabbing my hands and holding them out to the side. "Listen to me."

I struggle for a while, but I make no progress. Marcus doesn't do anything but hold me down, he just waits for me to exhaust myself. I settle down, panting under the weight of the man pressing into me. "Listen to me. Look at me." I really don't have much choice so I look up at him. "You are a submissive. Everything I saw today confirms that. Submission should make you proud, content, and happy. Because of what was done to you, it makes you afraid. You should not be afraid of what you are. You should never be truly afraid when you're being played with by a dominant. You need to get over your fear before you can shine. You would be glorious if you belonged to someone who didn't abuse you. I want to show you what that would feel like."

"I don't want to be a submissive. It sucks. It hurts. I feel so lost. I'm so confused I think I'm losing my sanity. I just want to forget. Forget everything." 

Marcus wipes more tears from my cheeks. "Shhhh little girl. You're not lost, you've been found. I want to show you how beautiful you are. I want you to feel the pride that comes with making a man happy. I want you to feel the veil of content that a submissive feels when being bound and helpless. I want you to feel the joy of orgasm, over and over and over, until you think you heart will burst. To feel the pleasure that comes with pain. You know that pleasure, don't you?"

His words bring back feelings and memories from that day with Dustin. I can feel myself start to react. I struggle again, but he holds me down easily. "Shhh girl, calm down for me. It's over. I'm done. Shhhh. You did very well. Good girl. Calm down." He holds me till my breathing returns to normal, and then he helps me up. "The longer you wait, the harder it will be. Please consider my offer."

Taking a few steps away, trying to fix my hair and cloths. "No. I will never do that again."

He smiles down at me. "Never is a long time. Let yourself heal and that will give you time to reconsider. When you change your mind, just let Jarod know. He knows how to get a hold of me." He looks at me a while longer, then grabs the canvas bag and lets himself out of my house. I slump down to the floor and start crying again. What the hell was Jarod thinking by sending this man here? What am I going to do now? 

*********

The three of them are waiting silently in the prep room. The clock on the wall says 7:57. Harper is picking at a snag in the carpet with his foot. Marcus is wearing the same suit he wore to the girl's house, minus the tie. His large frame is sitting facing the wrong way in a straightback chair, his folded arms resting on the wooden back. Her strength mixed with that natural submissive nature was an interesting combination. Damn Dustin for destroying her first real experience in submission. The clock says 7:58. 

Dustin is leaning against the make-up table, chewing on one of his fingernails. His bare feet shuffling restlessly on the floor, toes grasping for the carpet threads. Dustin changed into a black silk robe a few minutes ago, now all there is left to do is wait. The clock still says 7:58.

Harper clears his throat, and the silence is broken. Marcus stands up and starts pacing. Dustin is nervously shaking his right leg. He still doesn't know what the hell happened with that girl. His girl. She just kept taking everything. He couldn't stop. Why? Why couldn't he just stop? The clock says 7:59.

"It's time." Harper announces. The three men look at the clock for the hundredth time today. 7:59. Dustin takes a slow deep breath and stands up. Marcus walks to the prop table and picks up a triple-tailed Latigo leather flogger. "Dustin, are you sure this is the whip you want?" Dustin turns and looks at the vicious whip hanging from Marcus's hand. "No, not really, but it's what I deserve. Use it." 

Harper walks to his friend and gives him a hug, Dustin's arms wrap around him in return. "We'll get you though this, buddy." Dustin just nods his head. He turns and walks out the first set of black heavy drapes leading to the stage, with Harper and Marcus following behind. The clock on the wall says 8:00.

In the center of the stage is a large wooden square frame. Dustin walks right up to the frame and waits for the others to catch up. Let's get this over with. Harper walks up beside him and Dustin hands him the black robe. Dustin is naked up on the stage. There are only 40-45 people in the house tonight, but tonight's not for them anyway. So Dustin doesn't care too much about them. 

Harper goes to strap him into the frame, but Dustin motions for him to step back. He slips his foot into the leather strap on the floor and kicks his foot out, tightening the strap. He does the same with the other foot. He then does the same for each arm, jerking them to tighten the straps. Harper pulls some cords Dustin can't reach, pulling his arms and feet apart into a large X shape. 

Marcus steps forward and speaks to the house, his voice ringing authoritatively though the great room. "Some rules were broken here last weekend. Rules are meant to keep everyone safe. If rules are broken, the offenders must be punished. The punishment must be severe enough to correct wrong behavior, but also severe enough to warn others against breaking the rules themselves."

He looks back at his friend, bound and helpless. "Dustin Durrant, do you admit to breaking the rules of this house, your house? Do you admit to playing with a new submissive without informed consent? Do you admit to pushing a newbie without setting the boundaries necessary to keep her safe? Do you accept the fair and just punishment of ten strikes against bare skin?"

"I admit to this charge and accept my punishment." Dustin's voice is emotionless. He knows this is going to hurt like hell.

Marcus moves behind the frame and jiggles out the whip, unloosening the twisted tails. He needs to be careful with this puppy; this flogger can easily break the skin. He pulls the whip back and lands the first stroke across Dustin's shoulder. The next nine are progressively lower, never hitting the same spot twice. His friend is quiet, except for and occasional grunt as his body jerks against the bonds holding him up. 

The first ten strokes are done. Dustin is panting and sagging against the wrist restraints, but still standing on his own. Marcus steps forward and the scenario repeats itself.

"Dustin Durrant, do you again admit to breaking the rules of this house? Do you admit to breaking the skin of a submissive in your care? Do you accept the fair and just punishment of ten strikes against bare skin?"

"I admit to this charge also and accept fair punishment." Dustin's voice cracks as he speaks, Marcus is watching him closely for signs that he won't be able to continue. But this isn't it.

Marcus steps back and again jiggles out the flogger. Many long red welts are clearly visible on Dustin's back, but he doesn't see any blood, thankfully. Now for the hard part; not hitting any previously marked skin. Marcus lands the next ten lashes with the precision and control he's known for. Nowhere do the lashes overlap. Dustin makes it through three of the lashes before the first screams leave his body. At the end of ten, he's still standing, but barely. Harper steps forward to help him before he collapses against his bonds. Marcus presses his hand gently against Dustin's head and whispers for him to be strong, it's almost over.

For the third and last time, Marcus steps forward. 

"Dustin Durrant, for the third and final time do you admit to breaking the rules of this house? Do you admit to failing to release a submissive who asked you to stop? Do you admit to continuing to play with a submissive after clear notice was given that she did not want to continue? Do you accept the fair and just punishment of ten strikes against bare skin?" There is a murmur heard in the audience as this is discussed by the people sitting in the darkness.

"I admit to this charge and accept the punishment." Dustin's voice is ragged and tears flow freely down his face. Marcus steps back and looks Dustin over again; there are not a lot of options left. 

"Dustin, I can get maybe five lashes in cleanly. Do you want the last five on your extremities, or should they all go on your back?" Dustin gives a visible shudder, Harper is still helping hold him up.

"My back. Put them all on my back." He slumps a little, as what little strength he has left starts to wane.

Marcus steps forward to address the house. "There is little clean space left on his back. He was given the option of the remainder of his lashes on his extremities or to receive them all on his back. He has chosen to have them all to be placed on his back. The irony here is that this is more likely to break his skin. He understands this and accepts it." 

As Marcus steps back to deliver the last of the punishment, Harpers steps out of the framework. Dustin is visibly shaking with the effort to stand. Marcus looks at his friends crisscrossed back again and finds only four clean spaces left. Damn. Sorry buddy. He takes a deep, calming breath. He needs to be accurate. He needs to be quick. And he needs to be conscious of the strength he uses.

The first three strokes are good, but Dustin sags in the restraints as the forth is coming and it doubles up on a previous welt. His cry echoes in the large empty space. Marcus continues without hesitating, these last few are not going to be pretty, and he doesn't want it to last any longer than necessary. When he's done, Dustin is limp in the restraints, sobbing openly. There are three wounds bleeding on his back that Marcus can see, but the worst is the two lashes that almost completely overlap each other. Harper is stepping up and releasing the leg restraints. He waits for Marcus to get there before the two friends finish releasing Dustin's arms, and help him off the stage.

Harper is ready to set Dustin down in the prep room, but Marcus wants to get him upstairs into his own rooms. They half drag him, still naked, through the hall and into the elevator before Dustin starts babbling. "Tell her I sorry. Tell her. I'm so sorry. I won't hurt her next time. I promise. Just one more chance. Please." The two men exchange glances as they carry their friend down the hall to his bedroom.

They get him into his bed and Harper starts tending to his back. It's red and raw. Harper hands him some fairly strong sleeping pills and a glass of water. Dustin tries to refuse, but a rather creative and not so pleasant alternative suggestion from Marcus makes him reconsider and he swallows the pills without further fuss. They both wait while Dustin slowly drifts off to sleep. 

"Did you catch that? 'I won't hurt her next time. Just one more chance.' Is he still claiming her as his?" Marcus isn't sure what to think.

"You know Dustin; how carefully he chooses his words. He hasn't called her 'his girl', but he hasn't said anything to make me believe he was still fixated on her." Harper is confused too.

"I can't believe no one's ever gotten their hands on her before this. She's like, what, 30ish? Other than her height and physical power, there's gotta be something going on with her that counters or covers up her submission. How the hell did Dustin break through that so quickly?"

Harper is talking as he cares for Dustin's back. "I really don't know, sir. She just showed up one day with Jared, and Dustin saw something in her immediatley. He asked for her driver's license info before she even walked in the door. He was definitely hunting her. The next day she showed up alone, and he just snapped. I knew he was pushing her hard, but every time I went in to check her, she just accepted it. When I saw her at the end of the night I was shocked. We talked then, but he had excuses for everything. The next day, her personality was just...different. When she said Dustin wouldn't let her go home, it floored me. He's never done anything like that before." Harper looks up from his work. "Sir, this overlap is going to leave a mark, a long one."

"Yeah, I saw that. He slumped after the whip was already in motion; there was nothing I could do. The other two don't look so bad, those should heal nicely. What are we going to do with him?"

Harper thinks for a second, and then a mischievous grin crosses his face. "I'm going to take care of his back, but if he ever goes near that girl again, I'll just call a bouncer/pimp/loan shark/mob enforcer guy I know to take care of it."

Marcus hits him lightly on the top of his head. The little shit just dodged all responsibility again. "God, you're an ass. How does Dustin put up with you, anyway?"

"It's my natural charm. Everybody luvs me." 

Marcus looks at the time. "My ride is leaving soon. I gotta go and catch my flight home. Keep me in the loop, OK."

Harper stands up, he's serious again. "Thanks Marcus. I've never expected anything even remotely like this. I wouldn't have known what to do; either about him, or that girl."

Marcus hugs him. "You did good in calling me. It's a huge mess. Dustin I'm not too worried about. He was experienced before this; he just has to find his way back on track. The girl. I don't know. She has nothing to reference but what he did to her, and maybe some bad pornos. If you could remind Jared to keep on her about trying again, I'd appreciate it. She should experience what submission is really like. OK, I really have to go now. You're in charge buddy-boy."

"Goodbye sir, have a safe flight home."

*********

Why am I here? I've been sitting in my car, outside the Free Women's Clinic for 30 minutes. I can't believe Jared actually talked me into this. To be honest, the nightmares probably had a lot to do with it, but its easier blaming Jared. I fly to Vegas in two weeks, and I'm supposed to get 'tested' before I go. What if Dustin had something? He didn't use a condom. These men are driving me nuts. I never used to be this indecisive. I hate this.

It takes 15 minutes of silent pep talk before I have the courage to walk into the clinic to get myself tested. It's quick and professional; a bit of blood, and mouth swab and a vaginal swab. The nurse said the results would be in the mail in about a week. Once the tests are done and I'm back sitting in my car, I have a little panic attack. I start sweating and it gets very hard to breath. It's another 20 minutes before I feel calm enough to drive. I can't believe I'm doing this. I am officially insane.

*********

The days fly by and before you know it Saturday is here. I'm standing alone at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. I still have time to turn around and run home, and I'm a bit reluctant to walk outside the secure section. Marcus took care of all the arrangements, so I have no idea what to expect. I just know someone will be waiting for me at the main entrance. I just need to have one more burst of insanity/courage and everything else should be out of my hands. No going back. 

I'm clutching my travel bag, as I walk away from the last little bit of safety I have. My hands are shaking as I arrive at the main entrance. I don't see Marcus anywhere, but there is a uniformed man holding up a placard with my name on it. He seems friendly and completely unaware of the storm of panic under my skin as he carries my bag to the town car and helps me in. 

The glitz and glitter of Vegas is lost on me as the driver easily maneuvers the busy streets. Before I know it, he is unloading my bag and helping me out of the car in front of a tall building. Marcus is standing in front of the door, still as huge and imposing as I remember him. He tips the driver as he takes my bag, and ushers me inside the building and up to the third floor.

We have a little bit of small talk as he shows me around the condo; kitchen, living room, bathroom, his bedroom, playroom (he didn't show me the inside of that one and, in fact, said I was not allowed to touch the door or enter the room without him). The last room is my bedroom. I'm kind of surprised I get my own room. He leads me in and lets me look around. "I get my own room?"

"Yeah, I thought you might like some space of your own. My room is just down the hall, so I you ever feel comfortable enough, you can come to me." I give him a look and he laughs. "Don't say never, you can't predict the future." 

He puts my bag down on the bed, and promptly starts rifling through it. I go to grab it away from him, but he just stares me down. I open my mouth to yell at him, he points one finger at me and my mouth shuts of its own accord. He looks through my shirts and shorts. One pair of cargo shorts and the tank top I sleep in are put back in the bag; everything else goes on a pile on the bed. All panties and bras go on the pile without a second glance. He goes through my make-up case and everything else I brought. He finds the test results from the women's clinic. He pulls out similar papers from his back pocket and hands them to me. As he looks at my results, I look at his. All I see a long line of 'negatives'. He hands my results back and I give his back to him. That was awkward. He continues to go through my bag. In the end, one pair of shorts, one shirt, one extra pair of sandals, and some of my toiletries make the cut. Everything else he takes out of the room. Even my phone is gone!

He comes back in a little while later. "I didn't think you'd actually have the courage to go through with this. It's quite impressive that you're here. I'm very proud of you." I just stand there, watching him. "It's too early for lunch, how about some shopping."

"Oh, that'd be wonderful. Seeing as I have no clothing left to wear this week." He took all my stuff. He's looking at me like he's shocked I can speak. How did he expect me to react when he takes all my clothes?

We leave the building and walk about four blocks along the strip. We have a normal conversation, despite the throngs of tourists around us. He tells me about the different buildings and stores. I was expecting something dark and scary, but he opens the door to a fairly normal looking boutique. 

The shop owner greets him with a chirpy 'Sir' and gives him a small friendly hug before turning to scrutinize me. She walks a full circle around me. I try to turn to keep her in sight, but Marcus places a hand on my shoulder stopping me. "Very nice choice, sir. Tall, but very nice. I should have several good options for her. Come with me." She turns and locks the front door, and then walks behind a curtain into the back of the store. 

Marcus winks down at me and leads me into the back room. It's a comfortable, well decorated dressing room. There are long mirrors on the wall half surrounding a raised dais, a curtained off area for changing, and two upholstered chairs facing the dais. Off on one wall is a long work bench with needles and clips and tape measures and scraps of cloth. 

"I already know what you like, so we'll just get started." She leaves through the same curtain we just came through. Marcus leans down and kisses me on the top of my head. "Good girl so far. When Trixie comes back with a dress, you're going to go in one of the changing rooms to put it on. When you come out, I want you to give me your panties and bra before going up on the viewing platform. Do you understand?" 




Just Curious Ch. 05



"If you wanted them, why didn't you take them back at your place?" How do I give him my things without that woman seeing? 

"You were scared enough. I wasn't sure how long your bravery would last, so I wanted to go easy on you. I did not think stripping you naked in the first ten minutes was the way to start things off for us. Will you do as I say?" He's holding my chin in his hand, forcing me to make eye contact. I nod my head yes. I'll do as he says.

Trixie returns with an armful of color and deposits the dresses on her workbench. She sorts through them and pulls out a blue one. "I think this one will bring out your eyes. Let's try this one first, shall we?" She hands me the dress and ushers me through one of the curtains. She asks if I need help dressing, but I tell her I'll be fine.

I dress quickly, my bra and panties mocking me from the bench in the dressing room. Taking a deep breath I leave the safety of my solitude. I see Marcus sitting in one of the chairs; Trixie is sitting on the arm, her hand on his broad chest, just chatting with him. A little pang of jealousy courses through me. What is she doing? Why is she so close to him? Trixie stands as I walk toward them, a tight smug little smile on her face. Bitch.

Looking Trixie in the eyes, I let my black bra and panties hang from my fingers for a second or two before dropping them onto Marcus's lap. I hear a soft masculine laugh. He's smart enough to know what's going on. "Glorious. Absolutely beautiful. Up on the platform with you, girl."

I go to stand on the dais as Trixie points out the finer points on the sundress. Indigo blah blah blah, cut to show off blah blah blah, sparkle to draw the eye blah blah blah. Marcus seems to be enjoying himself. His eyes roaming over my body. He takes a small camera out of his pocket and snaps a few pictures of me. "What do you think, girl? Do you like it?"

I try to ignore the camera and take a look in the mirror. "It's a bit short, but I like the color."

Trixie butts in trying to make the sale. "You're a bit taller than most, so the dresses will naturally be a bit shorter on you. But you have the legs to pull it off." 

Marcus seems to consider this then asks me to bend over at the waist. I just stare at him, not moving. I watch as his eyes darken. "Bend over."

I turn so I don't give Trixie an eyeful and bend over. I feel the short summer dress riding higher up on my thighs. "That's not too short for me. What do you think Trix?" Trixie walks behind me and runs her hand down my ass. I jump up and swipe her hand away. I stare at her, daring her to try that again. 

"I didn't tell you to stand up." Marcus and his now icy eyes are focused me. 

"She touched me." Now I'm trying to watch her and him at the same time.

"So, that doesn't give you permission to stand up." I glare at him, then at Trixie one last time, before I bend over again. Frickin' humiliating.

I try on a few more sundresses. Black, red, deep purple, lilac, all the colors of the rainbow. Full sleeves, short sleeves, no sleeves, straps, chains, sparkles, modest fronts, plunging necklines. All sorts of very beautiful dresses. Sometimes Marcus asks my opinion, but usually not. He poses me a few more times and takes a few more pictures, but Trixie doesn't try to touch me anymore. Then she brings out a sundress in various shades of orange. Uuugh. I hate orange. "I'm not wearing that!" 

"Put it on. I want to see you in it." He hasn't used what I would call the 'command' voice, like Dustin used, but his tone didn't leave much room for refusing him. Too bad.

"I'm not wearing orange. I don't look good in orange. It is not my color." No way. He can't make me wear that.

He stands up. Even up on the dais, he's taller than me. He takes the dress from Trixie and holds it out toward me. He stands there. I stand there. Trixie takes a few steps back; apparently she's smart enough not to get in the middle of a war. He stands there, arm outstretched. I stand there, arms folded across my chest. 

"Put the dress on." 

"If you want someone to wear it that badly, you put it on." I'm dead. I know I'm dead. I see the change in his eyes. He steps up on the platform with me and towers over me. His hand is on the back of my head, holding me in place. "Do you know what happens to bad girls?"

"They don't have to wear ugly orange dresses." I can see he's trying to decide whether or not to keep pushing or let it go. I don't think he lets it go too often. 

"Fine. Because your new and it's your first few hours here. But you are being very bad, and I will remember this." He turns and looks through the pile of dresses that made the cut and hands me a white spaghetti strap dress with random colored paint splotches all over it. I've never heard him speak sarcastically, and I kind of hope I never have to again. "If this is acceptable, princess, put it on."

I walk into the changing room with the sinking feeling that I disappointed him. By the time I change, Marcus has all the dresses he liked in three bags, and is ready to go. "Let's go have some lunch, shall we."

"What about my things?" My arms are crossed over my chest.

"What 'things'?"

"My bra and panties." He can't expect me to walk around Vegas with no underwear. All I get is a smile that clearly says he does expect me to walk around Vegas full commando. He takes my hands and lowers them to my side. Then he puts his hand on the small of my back and ushers me out of the door into the full bright noontime sun of Vegas. My arms instantly go to cross my chest again. 

Marcus 'tsks' me then holds out the bags for me to take from him. I just stand there until he takes each hand in turn and puts a bag in them. I have no choice now but to walk without covering myself. It's only another two blocks to the restaurant, but it seems like miles. Can people see thru my dress? Can they tell I'm not wearing anything underneath? At first I try to shrink and make myself as small as possible, but when I tried to hide behind Marcus he pulls me back to his side. "You are beautiful, and you are mine. Show everyone how beautiful you are." You are mine?

We get to the restaurant; it's just a salad and sandwich shop. The staff seems to know him and greets him with a friendly "Good afternoon, sir." We get seated in a booth in the back. He asks the waitress for some privacy, and for the next hour and a half, no one is seated anywhere near us.

We order a light lunch and this is where we have our in-depth discussion about what is going to happen and what is expected this weekend. He does most of the talking, I ask a few questions here and there to clarify things. We go over what he will and won't do to me this week. I'm kind of surprised, and a bit disappointed, that I won't be whipped. Marcus says that emotionally I might not be ready for whips yet. He tells me about rewards and punishments; what get's them and what doesn't. We talk about safe words, and what happens when I use them. Green Light means keep going, and Marcus won't stop what he's doing. Yellow Light means caution, Marcus won't stop what he's doing, but he'll back down a bit. Red Light stops everything. All restraints are removed, all activities stop, and won't restart for at least 6-8 hours. Also, if Marcus thinks I am overusing Red Light, he will send me home on the next available flight. He doesn't say how much is overusing, but I tell myself right then and there that I will not say Red Light. I survived Dustin. I can survive this guy too.

He then talks about different types of bondage and restraints he'd like to try on me. He says he's going to be taking general pictures of me, but he specifically asks if he can take pictures of me when he has me in restraints. After a bit of discussion back and forth, I agree to that. He talks about honesty and that lying is punishable. He says that 'I don't know' is not an acceptable answer and could be punishable. He talks about obeying and how that it's part of submission. That my actions reflect on him, so if I act out of line, it reflects badly on him, and is punishable. I think about the ugly orange dress in Trixie's shop. I ask how he's going to punish me if he's not going to use whips on me. He just smiles and talks about different styles of punishments, but doesn't go into much detail. That was not altogether reassuring. 

He says he only has a week to play with me, so he would like to try several different things with me. He expects me to do everything he says, and he'll ask me after how I felt about them and decide what comes next, if anything. I ask about what happens if I don't want to do something. He says nothing he asks will be dangerous and he'll keep me safe, but if he asks me to do something, I will do it. We only have a week, and if I don't try things, how will I know if I like them or not. 

We finish the conversation with him saying that many of the things he's going to ask me will be hard, but if they weren't hard, then the submission wouldn't mean anything. He lets this sink in for a bit while he gets the waitress to bring the bill. He hands her some cash and tells her to keep the rest.

Marcus leans forward and puts his hands on mine. We look at each other for a long while. "Will you willingly submit to me this week? Will you obey me? Will you beg me? Will you cum for me at my command? Know that I will protect you, and keep you safe from all harm. But also know that I will push you. This might be one of the hardest weeks of your life, but it can also be the most rewarding. Give yourself to me without hesitation or fear, and I'll show you what you've been craving all your life. Say the words, girl. Let me rule you. You've came all this way. Say the words and give your mind and body to me for this week. What do you choose?" 

I can feel my body trembling. Staring into his dark, intense eyes I know this is what I want. I just have to get my mouth to do what my mind and pussy are telling it to do. I want this. I want this.

"Yes, Marcus. I agree. I don't know what I'm doing, but I promise I'll try my best. I want to know what this is. I want to know what I am. I want the nightmares to end, and I think this will be the way to do it. Yes Marcus. I agree to be yours for a week." Marcus tilts his head a bit, I'm not sure he knew about the nightmares, but then a sincerely genuine smile lights up his face. He lifts my hands and kisses the backs of them. I can't keep the catch out of my voice. "Please don't hurt me." I can't look at him anymore; I just stare at the table top. 

I sense Marcus standing and moving besides me. He puts his hands on my arms and helps me out of the chair and then he just holds me. His strong arms wrap around me and my head is resting against his chest. Nothing else, he just holds me. 

The restaurant disappears, and all the people in it. The sounds of chatter, and silverware, and all the other sounds of civilization disappear. It's just me, scared and alone; and the loud strong rhythmic heartbeat of the man I just agreed to belong to for the next seven days. He holds me till I stop shivering, then grabbing the bags of dresses; he takes me by the hand and leads me back to his home.

The cool air conditioning is a welcome relief after the heat of Nevada in the afternoon. We take our shoes off at the door. Marcus leads me to my bedroom and into the bathroom. He tells me to be out and in the living room in ten minutes. It doesn't take me that long to freshen up, and I beat Marcus to the living room. Without anything else to do, I stare out onto the strip from the large wall of windows. Watching throngs of tourists go about their day. 

I don't hear Marcus come into the room, but I do hear the click of the camera. When I turn around, he's leaning against the dining room table, watching me. We haven't talked much since the sandwich shop, and I don't feel much like talking now. I watch as Marcus starts unbuttoning his shirt and slips it off his arms. He pulls his undershirt over his head and drops it to the floor. He is all muscle, huge arms and a well defined abdomen. He has several scars on his body: a long white one from the bottom of his ribcage and disappearing down around to his side, what looks like a bullet hole wound in his shoulder, and several other smaller scars scattered here and there. He bends and slips his socks off.

He walks to the sofa. He stands there in just his pants and watches me. "Come here, girl." I walk to him, I still feel numb from discussion we had over lunch. Marcus lays down and the sofa and looks up at me. "I'd like you to take off the dress and lay down with me." 

I glance out the huge windows, wondering if people can see in. I can clearly see the balconies of other apartments across the street. He hasn't seen me naked since he was in my home. His voice interrupts my thoughts: "Today I'll give you the choice, because it's the first day. Tomorrow you will take the dress off. But I'd really appreciate it if you lay naked with me today also."

He's lying there, comfortable, non-threatening, and relaxed. I told him I would do my best. I also made that promise to myself. I close my eyes and start pulling the spaghetti straps from the white dress down my shoulders. The dress softly flutters down past my breasts and bunches at my hips. I shimmy it the rest of the way down to the floor. Stepping forward to the side of the couch, I'm not sure where exactly I'm supposed to lie. Marcus smiles and pats his chest; I'm supposed to lie there. I place a knee between his legs, trying not to touch him, and crawl up until I can lie on his chest. It takes a little maneuvering to get comfortable, and being completely naked doesn't help any. 

Marcus rests one hand on my shoulder, petting my hair. The other he places on my ass, his thumb slowly drawing circles on my bare skin. "Such a good girl." We lay like this for a while, his breathing slows and his fingers stop moving as he drifts off to sleep. It takes me longer to fall asleep; I don't know how long, but just longer. I wonder why he won't have sex with me.

*********

Something is crawling near my ear. I flick it away. Stupid bug. Sleep.

Something is crawling by my ear. I try to turn over, but strong arms are keeping me in place. I feel something by my ear again and swipe at it. I'm starting to wake up. "Stop it." Marcus is laughing. He slides hid finger along my ear again. I swipe at it again. "Stop it." 

"It's time to get up. We have a busy night ahead of us." I grumble and try to curl up more. He pokes at my ear again. I start to swipe at him again, but he catches my hand. He grabs my other hand and pulls them both behind my back. He puts a little bit of pressure on my arms, not enough to hurt, but I'm fully awake now. "That wasn't a suggestion, girl. Time to get up." 

One last little grumble and I climb off him. OK, to be honest, it's more of an ungraceful roll and an almost drop to the floor. I was lying on top of guy who is lying on a sofa. I get my feet on the floor and try to stand up, but Marcus has a hand on my shoulder, making me drop to my knees.

Marcus starts stretching, and I just wait, on my knees by the side of the sofa. I duck as he swings his legs up over my head and plants them on the floor in front of me. He stands and stretches again, but my focus is caught on the rather large bulge in the front of his pants. I feel a tingle course through my body. Is he going to fuck me now?

"Good girl." He tilts my face up and leans over to kiss me. He stands and looks down at me. "Spread your knees wider."

The command in the voice travels right to my core. My knees spread farther apart.

"Wider." He uses his foot to spread my knees as far as he wants them. "Put the backs of your hands on your thighs; palms up." That was an easy one. "Good girl."

I feel so small on the floor, while he towers over me. He watches me for a while, just to see if I move. When I don't move he crouches down so he's eye level with me, a smile brightening his handsome face. "When I tell you to kneel, this is the position I want to you take. Knees wide and hands on your thighs like they are now. Do you understand?" I nod my head. "Such a good girl." 

Why do those simple, almost demeaning, words of praise mean so much to me?

His hand glides along my collarbone and down between my breasts. A tremble flows through me, following in his wake. "I'm not going to fuck you today, girl. It's your first day, and I'd like you to be a little less terrified when I use that pussy." The crude, confident words cause me to quiver. His hands glides back up and cups one of my breasts. "Now, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy you in other ways." His fingers find my nipple and he starts to squeeze it. The pressure increases until I'm arching my back, pressing into his hand.

"Such a well behaved little girl you are. You haven't moved an inch. Tell me what you're feeling right now." He releases the pressure on my nipple and shakes my breast back and forth.

"I'm scared." It was the first thing that popped into my head. His hand moves up to my mouth and his thumb traces around my lips. A little push, I let his thumb into my mouth. With his fingers under my chin and his thumb hooked behind my teeth he pulls my head to the side and gently leans in to whisper in my ear. "That wasn't nearly good enough. I need more. Tell me everything."

He leans back and we look at each other. My whole body feels alive. It makes me feel bad that I didn't please him, but it's not the gaping black whole feeling that I felt with Dustin; like it would swallow me whole. Marcus wants to know what I feel, and if I tell him, maybe he'll be happy. I can do that.

"I'm not scared, I'm terrified. I also feel alive. I feel bad that I disappointed you this morning; I don't know why I didn't just put the ugly dress on. When you say 'good girl', it should offend me, but it just... it doesn't... I don't know... It just washes over me. Through me." That was complete rambling, but that's the best I could do. Marcus kisses me on the forehead and smiles at me. 

"Do you know why you're in this pose? Why I enjoy submissives kneeling like this?" I shake my head no. He gets a big grin on his face. "This pose gives me full access to this body. The face." He runs his hand over my face, covering my eyes for a second or two. "The back" Two fingers slide over my shoulder, down my spine, and over my ass. "The breasts" He fondles my other breast. "Everything is open and available to my touch. Everything." He slides his hand down my belly and cups my mound. "Harper said you were a red-head. I couldn't quite tell on the video. Interesting, I might allow you to keep it." He rubs his thumb through my strawberry blonde landing strip.

Oh crap! It's at this moment that I first comprehend how wet I truly am. Please don't let him slide his fingers in me or he'll know. He must have seen the look on my face, or he can read my mind, because with another determined grin, he slides two fingers between my folds. My whole body jolts. No one has touched me there in months, not since Dustin. 

His fingers continue sliding back and forth along my slit, and soon my body is moving along with them. All fear is gone. All uncertainty disappears. There's just this man who makes me feel alive. "Beg me. Beg me to let you cum." My eyes flash to his and another shiver runs through me.

"Please. Please Marcus, let me cum. Please. I need it. Please." I watch as his eyes darken. He strokes me a few more times and then stops. Just stops. "Please. Please make me cum."

"Sshhh. Who do you belong to?"

"I'm yours. Please, Marcus." I put my hand on his wrist and try to guide him back to my core. I'm so close.

"KNEEL." I am kneeling, and then I remember my hands are supposed to be on my thighs. As quick as I can, I put them back in place. I stay as still as can be, eyes on the floor. My body shudders, but it's not because of fear. Lust, desire, and a deep need are coursing through my veins.




Just Curious Ch. 06



Chapter 6 (Sunday)

I'm falling. It's pitch black. I can feel the dirt falling all around me. It gets in my eyes and my mouth and my nose. I grab desperately for something, anything. All I get is more dirt. I can't see anything. I feel the side of the pit. My hands desperately digging in every chance they can, but the sides just give way, and more dirt is falling all around me. I'm choking. I'm falling. I can't breathe. 

My feet hit something. They dig in, with my hands grabbing on to anything for more support. Panting, I hang there in absolute darkness. My fingertips are bleeding. I'm coughing dirt out of my throat. How far did I fall? How am I going to get out?

I feel a presence. I can't see it, but I know it's there. It's always there. I shift to try to locate it and one foot slips. The added weight on the other foot is too much, and the ground breaks out from under that one also. I'm falling again. A scream pierces the darkness. The presence stays with me. It's always with me. My fingernails break as I try to find purchase on the dank crumbling soil.

Something hits me in the face, a rock I think. There's a flash a light. I keep grabbing at the sides of the pit, anything to keep me from falling. I hear a noise; maybe my name. The presence has never spoken to me before. Another rock hits me. Only this time when I open my eyes I see light. Real light.

I see the presence that been haunting my dreams for so long. It's talking. My mind starts to wind down from the panic that was overwhelming it. Someone's talking to me, but it's not the presence. It's a man. Marcus is above me. Searching my eyes. Screaming at me. 

"Wake up! Good girl. Look at me. Come on, wake up or I'll slap you again. Good girl. Focus on me. Breathe."

I try to curl into a protective ball, but my wrists are still attached to the headboard. Marcus is sitting on me. This is the second time I've opened my eyes only to have him hovering over me. 

"How often do you have nightmares?" He starts releasing my wrists. My heart is pounding in my chest. I don't want to do this right now. I try to curl up into my little ball again, but he holds me down. "Tell me. How often?"

"A few times a week." I see him clearly for the first time. He's dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He's soaking wet with a towel around his neck, sweat dripping down on my face.

"Tell me. Tell me about your dream." His hand is on my face, forcing me to look at him.

"No, I can't. I don't want to. Please." I just can't do this anymore.

"Tell me!" He shakes me head for emphasis. "Tell me." That was a command and I cave almost instantly. It may not be coherent, but I tell him about my dream. Once I start, I can't stop. It's cathartic just to get it out of me. Marcus doesn't talk, he just listens.

When I eventually stop my rambling, he pulls me into his arms and holds me. He's soaking wet from his workout, but right now that doesn't matter much. He solid, and he's real, I can feel the residuals from my nightmare start to drift away. He just holds me, his arms wrapped around me, and we sit in silence for a while.

Then the interview questions begin. When did they start? Are there situations or emotions that make them worse? Or better? How do you recover after a bad dream? Do you have trouble falling asleep? Insomnia? Sleep-Walking? 

I don't think about my answers, I just let them slip from my mouth. Marcus's wet body is still wrapped around me. Then he asks me how I feel and I say the first thing that comes into my mind: "I just wanna go home." 

Marcus leans into me and presses his face into my hair, inhaling deeply. "Do you have a preference for airlines, or do you want the first available flight?"

I open my mouth to answer automatically, then the question registers in my mind. "What?" I twist to look up at him.

His eyes are sad, but determined. "You asked to go home. I need to get you a flight. I asked if you wanted a particular airline."

"I don't want to go home. That's not what I meant."

Marcus looks like he's thinking. He draws in a deep slow breathe and exhales it. "In a relationship like this, your words are very powerful. If you say 'stop', I stop. If you say 'yes', you are giving me your consent to continue. And if you say you want to go home, you go home. It is my responsibility, my duty, to make sure you get home quickly and safely. You just said you wanted to go home."

"I don't want to go home. I don't."

"But you said you did. I just heard you." He's getting frustrated with me now.

OK, I have to find the right words to explain this better. "When I said home, I didn't mean the address when my mail gets sent. I meant someplace, anyplace, where I feel ... I don't know exactly. Safe? Normal? Sane? Someplace where I'm not so confused. Does that make any sense?"

"So you're saying you misspoke." He looks a bit more relaxed now.

"Yeah, I didn't mean that I wanted to leave." 

He's thinking again. "OK, the 'go home' rule is usually nonnegotiable, but you're new and don't know many of the rules yet. So this is what I'm going to do: Three times this morning I'm going to ask if you want to go home. If you say 'no' all three times, I'll allow you to stay and we'll keep exploring. I'll ask you now, after your shower, and after breakfast. If you answer 'yes' at any time, then I'll get you home as quickly as possible. Deal?"

I nod my head yes.

"Do you want to go home?"

I shake my head no. Marcus scowls at me, but I smile back at him until he rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"You're incorrigible." I nod my head 'yes' again.

"Do you want a shower?"

"Definitely. You got sweat all over me." I scrunch up my face as Marcus pulls me into a bear hug. Gross! Soon I'm laughing and the terror from the nightmare is behind me.

"Do I have your word that you won't touch yourself if I leave you alone?"

I hadn't even thought of sex yet this morning. "I promise I won't touch myself inappropriately. But thank you for reminding me I haven't had an orgasm in weeks." 

My sarcasm isn't wasted on him. "You are most welcome, my lady. Shower, no touching, then breakfast. Got it?" I nod 'yes' again and Marcus untangles us from on top the bed. He turns me toward the bathroom and spanks my ass. "Take your time. I need to shower and then make us some breakfast."

I take a long hot shower. I need to clean not only my body, but my soul as well. I don't even think of masturbating, which clearly tells how badly the nightmare has affected me. I let it all wash away and flow down the drain; all the fear, the nervousness, the uncertainty, everything. When I'm ready to rejoin the world, I brush my teeth and dry my hair. There is a hair band on the countertop that wasn't there before, so I put my hair in a ponytail. Walking into the bedroom I find my clothes laid out on the bed, and not the sundresses, actually my clothes. There's the tank top I like to sleep in and my cargo shorts. No bra or panties though. I do a few stretches before I get dressed and then head out to the kitchen to find Marcus.

I walk into the kitchen and stop. And stare. I just figured out the question about how little he ate yesterday. There is oatmeal, a bagel, a skinless chicken breast, milk, broccoli, toast with jam, green grapes, and Marcus is just sliding a big omelet onto a plate and putting it on the table. "Perfect timing. Are you ready to eat?" I nod my head 'yes', that's a lot of food! Marcus pulls out a chair and I sit in it and he sits down also.

"First things first: Do you want to go home?"

"No, I do not want to go home." He nods his head.

"We have a busy day, so eat up." He seems happy this morning. He cuts off a portion of his omelet and slides it onto my plate, then asks what else I want. I choose half the bagel, some grapes, and a glass of milk. We start eating and chit chat a little bit, nothing serious or mind-numbing. Mostly, I try to get information out of him about what we're doing today. 

About half way through breakfast I notice a small dog bed I the corner of the kitchen. "Where's your dog?" Marcus looks at me and I tilt my head, indicating the dog bed. 

A small smile plays across his face. "That's not a dog bed; it's a kneeling pad, so your knees don't get sore on the hard floor." He watches me for my reaction.

What! "What?" 

"I usually feed my submissives while they kneel on the floor right here." He points to a spot near his feet. "You had a bad morning, so I gave you a chair ... today. Tomorrow you'll kneel and I'll feed you."

"Like a dog! You'll feed me like a dog?" My voice is low and angry. 

"I'll feed you however pleases me. Watch your tone of voice. Today is an important day for you." A surge of energy sparks as I recall him saying today he would, might, fuck me. Is he holding that over my head? 

"I won't. I won't do that."

"You will." He is calm and confident.

"I won't."

"You might not realize this yet, but everything I ASK you to do, I can MAKE you do. It's better for both of us if you obey. You will kneel for me tomorrow, whether of your own decision, or bound in ropes and chains. You will kneel." Crap. I can tell from his tone that he's done that before; forced someone to kneel for him. His voice was powerful and confidence was oozing off him. I look down at the remnants of my breakfast on the plate. The silence is excruciating. 

Marcus finishes his meal a few minutes later. "Grab some plates and take them to the sink." I still can't look at him, but I grab my plate and a few others and set them in the sink. Marcus brings the rest, rinses them off, and loads the dishwasher as I stand silently a few feet away. 

When he finishes he walks over to me. He takes my head by the pony tail and forces me to look up at him. "Tomorrow you will kneel for me and I will feed you. Do you understand?"

"Yes." It comes out as more of a squeak.

"Do you want to go home?" I look up at him. He did that on purpose! He knew I'd see the dog bed thing. He knew I'd ask and he knew what my reaction would be. I don't want to go home, but if I say 'no' I'm basically agreeing to kneel and be fed like a dog. Sneaky bastard!

"No, I don't want to go home, but I'm not agreeing to the kneeling thing either." There, I stood up for myself. Take that, sneaky bastard.

"That's three, so I'll allow you to stay. And you will kneel for me tomorrow. The sooner you accept that fact, the easier it will be." He looks down at me, reinforcing his words. "We're leaving in five minutes. Go use the bathroom one more time before we go, it'll be a while before we get back." He releases my hair and watches me as I slink back to my room, defeated. 

Five minutes later were in the garage below the building. Marcus has a big dark metallic blue SUV in his assigned parking spot. We head southeast toward Boulder City. He still won't tell me what we're doing, but he's dressed casually in black shorts and a sleeveless shirt. His arms look huge in that shirt. 

We drive to a house in Boulder City. I ask if this is his house, and he says that it's a friends place. Marcus hops out and opens the garage. He loads two kayaks and some gear into the SUV. I smile when he gets back into the vehicle. "What?"

In a sing song voice "I know what we're doing. I know what we're doing."

Marcus leans over and kisses me unexpectedly, "You look beautiful when you smile." I think we're past the drama from this morning. We make a quick stop at a local grocery store. Marcus has me wait in the car while he goes in. He comes out and puts his purchases in a cooler he has in the back. We cruise down some back roads until we reach the Colorado River. He parks at a small, deserted, boat launch. It only has 4 long parking stalls, I presume for vehicles with trailers. 

Marcus starts unloading everything. I ask if he needs help, but he doesn't, so I investigate the shoreline. A short while later, I hear the click of the camera and turn to find him ready to go. We smear on sunscreen and put on the floatation vests. He asks if I've ever kayaked before, I tell him about half a dozen times on calm lakes. He shows me the basics, loads me into a yellow kayak. He climbs into an extra long red one. He pushes off, then maneuvers to help me launch. It only takes me a few tries to get the hang of it and we're off on our next adventure.

We float down the river for over two hours. Marcus points out different things; animals, rock formations, coves, old native paintings. He takes a few more pictures of me while we're going down the river. We race a few times and I might have, accidentally of course, splashed him with water a few times. Yeah, he didn't believe that either.

He points out another cove and we head over toward it to land on a small sandy beach. I wait while Marcus hops out, then he helps me out. My legs are stiff from being in the kayak for so long. He pulls the kayaks higher up on the beach and pulls out the cooler. He takes my hand and we walk up a small hill to what I can only call a plateau. It's maybe 10 feet up from the river and maybe 10 feet wide and 30 feet long. 

I look up the steep sides of the canyon, with the iconic layers of colored rock. Even though it's about 10AM the sun isn't high enough to shine down on us. There is more native art on the walls and Marcus poses me in front of it, taking more pictures. "Come, let's have a picnic."

He goes back to the cooler he set down earlier and lies down on the long grass. He stops me before I can lay down myself. He's on the ground, looking up at me when he tells me to strip. My first instinct is to look around, but I keep my eyes on him. I take a deep breath and remove my shirt and let it drop to the ground. My cargo shorts, shoes and socks follow shortly after.

Every sound is someone coming up the hill. Every movement out of the corner of my eye is a shadow of another person. It takes all my willpower not to look around, but I keep my eyes on him. "Good girl." He takes out that damn camera again and takes a few more pictures before allowing me to sit down across from him. 

He opens the cooler and we have a wonderful snack of pistachios, almonds, pita chips, carrots, olives, apple slices, M&M's, and bottled tea. I lay on my back as he feeds me bite by bite. We eat and talk; he poses me a few more times and takes pictures. He runs his fingers through my reddish landing strip. He investigates my breasts, my neck, my tummy, and my face. Soon I forget my nudity, and just enjoy the picnic. 

After we finish the food, Marcus packs up the empty bags and bottles into the cooler. He stands effortlessly and helps me up. We walk over to the cliffs again for more pictures. These are a bit more risqué. He lies between my legs and takes pictures up the length of my body. He has me face away from him, bend at the waist, and place my hands on my ass. He has me sit on an outcropping, knees bent and spread wide, hands raised high above my head. I do it all. No questions. No hesitation. He tells me to kneel, and I drop down to my knees. 

"Kneel." I didn't place my hands on my thighs. Crap. I spread my knees wide and place my hands, palms up, on my thighs. He walks around me; once, twice, three times. "Good girl."

He stops in front of me and slips the waistband of his shorts down, releasing his gorgeous cock. It's semi hard, bobbing up and down in time with his breathing. "Pleasure me." He says it with the cool, calm confidence of a man who knows I'm going to do exactly as he says.

I sit up slightly and lean forward wrapping my lips around the smooth purplish head. The scent of a man envelopes me as I suck gently on the tip. I slide my tongue along the length of the underside of his cock, snaking along a large prominent vein. I go back to sucking him again, taking the first few inches in my mouth, I spend the next few minutes bobbing up and down. I tried using my hand to tease his balls, but he ordered me to 'kneel' again. So it looks like this is an 'oral only' exercise.

I work at this for about ten minutes. My knees are sore and my jaw is getting there. I tried to take him deep, but each time I started gagging. He praised me every time I tried, so I kept at it. It was almost a relief when he placed his hands on the back of my head. Anticipation, nervousness, and a little bit of fear are at the forefront of my mind. I try to relax as his fingers take hold of my hair.

He presses himself in and out of my mouth several times, always stopping before I gag. I'm not sure if I can do this. His cock is bigger than most, nine inches and thick. Dustin got down there; maybe I can take Marcus as well. I guess we'll find out. "Take a deep breath and hold it." 

He is already filling my mouth, so I inhale through my nose and hold my breath. As soon as I do that, I hear him say: "Swallow."

I can't. I just can't. "Come on, girl. Swallow me. I've seen you do this." His deep husky voice gives me confidence. I force myself to make the swallowing motion, and he simultaneously presses himself into my throat. He only holds it there for a second or two before my gag reflex kicks in. I can't believe he got in there in the first place!

He doesn't let me go, but he does let me recover. As soon as I am, he tries again. "Deep breath." That's the easy part. "Swallow me." This time I can do it without more prompting. He forces his cock into my throat again and holds it there as I start gagging. "Relax." I start panicking and try pulling off him. He doesn't let me go, but he does pull back so he only filling my mouth. "Don't bite me, girl." My mouth is filling up with saliva, and there's no way I'm making the swallowing motion again, so it starts spilling out the corners around the huge cock. 

When I recover enough, Marcus tells me to swallow again. This is going to be a long morning. I take a breath, hold it, and swallow. We do this over and over. Marcus coaching me on tips and tricks to control the gag reflex. I close my eyes to help me concentrate. My chin and chest are covered in my spit and I can feel it slowly sliding down my stomach. I'm not sure how many times we do this, but all of a sudden something bumps into my chin. My eyes pop open, and strong, well-defined abs are right in front of my face. He's in! He's all the way in. 

"Good girl." My stomach is churning from all the gagging. I'm getting used to the timing by now; Marcus doesn't have to speak anymore. When he puts pressure on my hair I inhale. When he pulls my head forward I swallow. When he pulls out I don't bite down.

He slides down my throat again and again, the pace increasing ever so slightly. I can hear him groan above me. One last time, only this time he doesn't pull out. It's a weird sensation having a cock twitching and pulsing in your throat. He starts pumping cum directly into me. This time, when I start gagging he doesn't pull out. He stays in me until he drains every drop in my convulsing throat.

When he's done he pulls out and I try to collapse, but he still has me by my hair. He lets me rest against his thigh, but he doesn't let me go. We stay quietly like this for a while. After I've stopped coughing and gasping for breath, the questions begin. How do you feel? (nauseous) Does your nudity bother you right now? Did it when I first told you to strip? Did you think you could take all of my cock? You didn't look around when I told you to strip, why not? Do you prefer nudity in front of strangers or somewhat secluded, like this place? I answer them automatically. 

"Do you think you pleased me?" 

"I hope so." My head is still resting against his thigh. He releases my hair and tilts my face up to look at him. I know I'm look like a complete mess, but the way he smiles down at me makes that meaningless. 

"You did. I am very proud of you this morning. I think I should let you have a reward. What would you like, girl?"




Just Curious Ch. 06



The same thing I wanted for the last few weeks. The only thing I've wanted for the last 24 hours. "Please fuck me, Marcus. Please make me cum."

"Hmmmm. Yes, I think that's a good reward. Agreed."

My body lurches. YES! He's going to fuck me, finally. He grabs my hair again, keeping me in place. "Easy now, girl. You're still mine, and I can quickly change my mind if you're bad."

"No. No no no, please. I'm sorry. Please fuck me, Marcus. Please"

He kneels down so he is eye level with me. "I am going to thoroughly enjoy using that tight pussy of yours, but first I need to get you some place where no one will hear you scream. Get dressed and we'll head back up the river."

I bang my head against his knees a few times; I can hear him chuckling above me. "Come on. Up with you. Get dressed. Time to go." He helps me up and hands me my clothes. All I want is for him to fuck me, and here I am getting dressed again. This sucks!

"The faster you get dressed, the faster I get you back to my place." That kind of puts it in a new perspective, I'm still not happy, but I dress faster than before. He's loading up the kayaks. He has me wash my face in the river then puts the life vest back on. Soon we're back in the river heading upstream.

While kayaking downstream is more about making the kayak go where you want it, going upstream is actually more like work. You have to paddle against the current, you have to watch where you're going, and you have to keep paddling. Marcus gives me a few minutes to figure this out before adding even more pressure. "Listen up girl. I have some rules for you." I watch as he pulls up alongside my kayak. Now what? "Downriver was easy. Upriver is going to be a whole different story. We're going to keep a fairly fast pace back to the landing. One, because it's a great workout, and two, because the quicker we get back, the quicker I can pound into your tight little cunt." The crude words cause a small spasm in my pussy. Yes. Yes. Yes.

"You're going to be in front. If the front of my kayak ever crosses the back of yours, that's a spanking. You'll know, because I'll call it out. I'll also add another slap for every second my kayak is crossed over yours. Do you understand?" I nod my head that I do. "Good girl. One more thing: If my body gets equal to or in front of yours, you will not cum today. Do you understand?" 

"You won't fuck me?" No way I'm going to let that happen.

He smiles at me. "I'll still fuck you to my complete satisfaction, but I won't let you cum until you've earned it again. Is that clear?" I swallow the lump in my throat before I nod 'yes' again.

"Good girl. Let's get going." I start paddling upstream. Marcus keeps pace behind me. At first he yells for me to go faster, until we're at the pace he wants. We wave at a group of people on tubes floating down the river. Ten minutes earlier and they would have seen me naked, kneeling and covered in spit. Marcus just shrugs when I look back at him accusingly. Then he tells me I'm on my own, and I know he won't encourage me anymore. 

At first, it fairly easy. It's a fast pace, but not brutally so. But after 20 minutes my arms are tired and I'm breathing hard. I've earned six spanks so far and I have no idea how much farther it is to the landing. I just keep digging in with the paddle. I check behind me and Marcus is very close, so I add a burst of speed to keep ahead of him.

Up ahead I see some choppy water. So I try to pick my path like he taught me. I do a pretty good job, but just near the end of the choppy water I hit a rock. It's doesn't damage the kayak, but it does let Marcus catch up to me. I watch in slow motion as his kayak inches forward past the back end of my kayak. "Seven." I paddle hard to get my momentum up again. "Eight." Damn him, he's making me more nervous shouting out those numbers. I won't let him get ahead of me. I can't. "Nine." I won't survive if I don't cum soon. He calls out "Ten" before I can pull out in front of him. Now it's just an endurance test. 

It takes us over an hour to reach the boat landing. I've earned a total of 22 spankings, but I didn't let him get ahead of me. I pull up alongside the launch, and Marcus pulls up right after me. He hops out and pulls his kayak up out of the water, then helps me out of mine. I sit right back down on solid ground and flop onto my back. I hear him chuckle as he stows the kayaks and gear in his SUV. 

A shadow crosses over me and I look up to see him standing over me. "Are you still going to fuck me?" 

"I don't know. Looks like you could use a nap instead." I reach out to grab/punch his leg and he dodges back out of my reach. "That's my girl. Up ya go." I groan as he helps me to my feet. Why does everything hurt? I thought it was just my arms.

The life vests come off and go in the back of the SUV along with the rest of the stuff. Marcus closes it up and walks me over to the passenger side. Instead of helping me into my seat, he pulls me into an embrace. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head against his chest. "Thank you." I don't know why I said that, but something made me do it.

Marcus lifts my chin and looks at me. "What for?"

I'm not sure how to say everything. "Thank you for today; I loved kayaking through the canyon. Thank you for holding me; I feel safe when you hold me. Thank you for asking me to come here; I would still be holed up, broken, in my apartment if you hadn't. Thank you for helping me when I had that panic attack; you seem to know exactly what I need. Thank you for not tossing me out when I had my nightmare. Just thank you for everything."

He wraps his arms around me again. "Shhh baby girl. You're not broken. We take care of each other, because most people don't understand what we do. I've seen your desire to please. I've seen the pleasure you draw from pain. You belong under the firm hand of a dominant. You would thrive in your submission. You're not broken. I just have to show you that. Take the fear away, and the rest should come naturally to you." He starts rocking gently back and forth. He moves his feet in a small circle and I follow him in the slow dance next to the SUV. 

Marcus eases himself out of our embrace and kisses me gently. Slow and lingering, his taste permeates my senses. His fingers open the button and zipper on my shorts and slowly eases them over my hips until gravity takes them to the ground. Then with the same ease he lifts my tank top over my head, breaking our kiss at the last moment possible. He takes my hand as I step out of my shorts and leads me to the front of the SUV. A few more kisses, his hand roaming over my bare back and ass. 

"Kneel." I drop down, hands on my thighs, and wait, Marcus pets my hair a few times, drinking in my submission. I can feel my pussy start to get wet. He slips his hand inside his shorts again and releases his cock. He slides it up and down my face and I relish the feeling of it against my skin; the heat pouring off it. The naughtiness of the act I'm submitting to again.

"Swallow me, girl." Yes. I immediately start bobbing up and down on him. I can get him to the back of my throat. I feel his cock get harder and longer in my mouth. I slobber down to his balls and lavish attention on them before going back to the main course. I slip him in as deep as I can, take a deep breath, and push my head forward. I only get a little bit down my throat, but the groan of absolute pleasure coming from above me spurs me onward. Again and again I try to swallow him, a little deeper each time. I know I can do this. I've done this already. Marcus is swearing by now. "Fuck, girl. Use your hands. Suck every god damn drop outta my cock."

With my hands I get a little bit more control, and confidence. One is tugging and toying with his balls, the other is wrapped around the base of his shaft, stroking and twisting rhythmically. Again and again I press that glorious cock down my throat. Marcus can't stand it any longer. He grabs my hair and starts thrusting in time with my motions. He's not controlling the thrusts, he's just helping them along. It doesn't take long before his cock is twitching down my throat, his cum spilling directly into my stomach.

He pulls out and collapses against the SUV, panting hard. I lean forward and start licking him clean. "Fuckin' little minx." Suckling the last few drops from out of the head, I lean my head against his thigh and catch my breath. He pats my head. "Good girl. Time to get you home."

I get dressed and he opens the door for me. The drive home was uneventful, except for the fact that it seemed to last an eternity. He drops off the kayaks and methodically replaces the gear at his friend's house. We drive slowly back into the mayhem of Las Vegas. He eases into the parking spot. My heart is pounding so hard I think it's going to burst. The elevator ride is silent and agonizingly slow. The absolute silence as he opens the door to his condo. Please. Please. Please Please pleasepleaseplease. 

We didn't speak much on the way home. Home? Marcus places his hand on the small of my back and I jump at the unexpected contact. "SShhhh, girl. Calm down and breathe." He guides me into his bedroom and orders me to strip. I do so without hesitating. He chains me up in the shower and removes his clothes. Marcus starts the shower and washes both of us quickly and efficiently.

With a swift pat down he dries us both and guides me into the hallway and toward the door I'm not supposed to touch. Standing outside the door, both of us are naked, he kisses the top of my head. "Are you ready?"

I take a deep steadying breath before nodding my head yes. I don't think I could talk right now. I look up at him, seeing if he's going to make me talk.

"Punishment first. 22 if I remember correctly." Crap I forgot about that. He's watching me, so I nod again. Both to confirm the number and, I suppose, giving my consent. 

"You'll probably cum quickly, you've been on edge for a long time, but I've also been denying myself. And I plan on using you until I'm completely satisfied. You'll have to endure that. Do you understand?"

I nod again, but this time his look tells me that not enough. I try to talk, but my voice catches and I have to clear it first. "I understand. I earned 22 spankings from kayaking. Then you will...use me until you are satisfied." I'm not sure what he meant by 'endure', but if I get to cum, I'll endure anything at this point.

"You can back out now if you choose..." Marcus laughs as my head immediately starts shaking back and forth. My panicked eyes fixed on him. No way in hell I'm backing out now. "...but once we get in the playroom, only the safe words will work. Tell me what the safe words are so I know you remember them."

"Red Light, Yellow Light, and Green Light." Please please please

Marcus kisses my damp hair one more time before he unlocks the ominous door and leads me inside. The black steel table is in the middle of the room. There's a blue vibrator lying in the middle of it. I try to step back, but Marcus has his hand on the small of my back and he urges me gently forward. He closes the door and locks it, then he waits by the door as I move slowly forward. My eyes don't leave the vibrator. It's metallic blue, about seven inches long, and fairly thin. I stop when I reach the table, just staring at the thing lying on top. I jump when he speaks, telling me to touch it. I look back at him. He's gorgeous, huge muscles everywhere; even the scars are sexy on him. 

I refocus on the vibe, suppressing the panic frothing in my gut. My hand shakes as I obey him. Slowly, almost as if it's someone else's, I watch my hand reach toward the shiny blue object. I hesitate. Marcus is right behind me now; I can feel him towering over me, lending me strength. My fingertips touch the cool, hard shaft and sensuously slide toward the base. Marcus's hands encircle my waist, he's cooing in my ear, telling me I'm a good girl and how proud he is, and how strong I am. I feel him pressing his masculinity into the small of my back. 

I'm not strong. I can feel myself cracking. A single tear slides down my cheek. Strong arms turn me around and wrap around me, protectively. My head ducks under his chin and I breathe in his fresh clean scent.

His hands slip to my waist, "Up you go." He lifts me easily onto the cold, hard table. My ass hits the vibrator and I unconsciously try to jump off the table. Marcus shushes me and holds me in place. He reaches behind me and pulls the vibe away from me, or so I thought. He holds it in front of me until I take it and hold it in my hand. "Don't let go. No matter what. Understand?" I nod my head yes.

He leaves me and heads to one of the many cabinets lining the wall. When he comes back, he drops colored rope on the table. There's a purple one, a blue one and a red one. "Do you know what 'shibari' is?" I shake my head no.

"It's a Japanese form of bondage involving ropes and intricate knots. I'd like to try some basic shibari on you." I reach out and touch the ropes. Why does he need so much? I look back at him and nod my head yes. He smiles down at me and kisses my forehead. 

Long story short: He positions me on my hands and knees. My ankles are tied near my hips with several turns of the purple rope. My knees are on the edge of the table and spread very wide. My elbows are tied almost touching behind my back with my wrists secured near my hips also, all with the blue rope. The vibe is still in my hand. The red rope crisscrosses my chest and back in a simple, yet somehow intricate design. Two sections of red rope tied near my shoulder blades attach me to chains hung from carabiners sunk into the ceiling that keep me from falling over. I have to use my ab muscles to keep my back straight, otherwise there's not much wiggle room for me to move. My breasts are hoisted up and to the center before being secured with several turns of the rope encircling them.

I can barely move. I have to concentrate on breathing with short shallow breaths. I'm balancing precariously on bent knees, my weight shifting slightly between my knees and my shoulders as I try to find a comfortable position. It was almost like a form of meditation; hearing and feeling the ropes being pulled through the different designs. The sudden tugs this way and that as he sets the ropes. The multiple pressure points that seem to demand your constant attention but at the same time become one with you. Even the loss of movement is somehow cathartic. It's like I'm no longer an active participant in events, I'm just simply here. I just have to feel.

When he's done, Marcus moves in front of me and lifts my face. He looks down at me for the longest time before leaning in and kissing me. It's a hard and possessive kiss, bruising my lips before suddenly pulling away. He tugs the vibe out of my hand and runs it over my face before gently pressing it sideways against my lips. I open my mouth and he tells me to hold it there until he removes it.

He goes to the wall in front of me and opens the tall thin cabinet. There are four tall mirrors inside. Two are flush with the wall and can't move, but the two mirrors in the door panels he adjusts until he's satisfied with the angle of the reflection in them. I kneel there, unable to move, and stare at the reflection in front of me. The colors stand out starkly against my pale white skin. The shiny blue vibe looks gaudy sticking out the corners of my mouth. My breasts are slightly swollen and turning a shade of red that makes them stand out even more prominently.

He moves behind me and out of sight before I hear the click of the camera again. Slowly he walks around me, taking pictures from every angle. I feel helpless and exposed. His hand caresses me from my ass to my neck. 

He puts the camera down on the table. His hand in my hair, he lifts my face higher. He takes the vibe out of my mouth and replaces it with his cock. Slowly he rocks himself back and forth into my mouth. I suck him as his cock begins to swell in my mouth. He doesn't fuck me like he did when we were kayaking. This is a slow shallow blowjob that only lasts a few minutes.

I hear him groan as he pulls out of my mouth. His cock standing tall and proud in front of my face. He stands there a few seconds, so I rub my face against him. His scent overwhelming me. He pulls me away from him by my hair. "Don't tempt me girl!"

He lets go and I just hang there. Helpless. He disappears again and I just stare at the top of the table. Whatever he wants to do is going to happen, unless I use the safe word. I can't make him fuck me. I can't force him to make me cum. All I can do is wait, and endure, until he's ready. He's in command and I'm his to use as he wants. 

I hear a soft whoosh an instant before my backside explodes in pain. I release an animalistic howl as my head shoots up. In the mirror, Marcus is standing behind me off to the side, a large wooden paddle in his hands. I watch in horror as the paddle rises up, Marcus has his eyes locked on mine, and then paddle whooshes down again. My upper thighs explode. I don't scream the second time, but I do try to get off the damn table. Marcus watches me struggle, a small smile playing at his lips. "You're not getting out of those ropes without my help, but I do enjoy the view of you trying."

Gasping for breath I try to calm myself down. I can't breathe. Is this a reaction to the pain, or a panic attack like the first time with the vibrator? My ass is burning and feels kind of numb, but not unbearably so. I see the paddle rising up again. No no nono

"Wait! Wait. Wait. Please." Marcus changes his stance instantly. His hand pressing into the small of my back.

"Are you OK? What's your safe word?" I can hear the concern in his voice.

Safe word? "Not red. Umm Yellow. Yellow light." 

"Talk to me. Tell me what's going through your head." That was a command, and for some reason it calms me a little.

I keep trying to take in more oxygen as I answer him. "I couldn't catch my breath. I thought it was like last night, but this is different. I think it's passed now."

"Are you sure? We can stop if you say the words."

My breathing is regular again, at least regular for being tied up. The burning in my ass is starting to distract me. "The ropes make it hard to take a full breath and after I screamed I couldn't catch my breath. I feel better now. Green light. Did I use that right?"

"If by green light you mean you're ready to continue, then yes, you used it correctly. You didn't say red light, so I'm going to take your word and continue. I need you to keep talking to me. I need to know what you're thinking and feeling, understand?

"Yes, I understand."

I watch as he steps back and takes another swing. The whoosh followed by the burst of pain. This one didn't hurt so much. I don't know if it's because I'm in control of myself, or if he's holding back. The next three come in quick succession. My back arches as I feel the pain flow through me. Marcus massages my ass and thighs for a while. It feels so good I find myself pressing into his hand as much as I can. 

He slips his fingers between my folds and presses them into my pussy. "So fucking wet." He finger fucks me till I'm moaning and writhing on the table. Please let him fuck me soon.

"How many was that, girl." 

Oh fuck, I have no idea. "Five."

"Oohhh Wrong answer. That's not good." Why did he have to sound so happy when he said that? His fingers leave me. My body is confused; it doesn't know what it wants: pain or pleasure. "You know what that means, right?"

I don't even think about it. We've been through this before. "Yes, we start over from the beginning." What comes next is a natural, instinctive, gut reaction. I look up and find his eyes in the mirror. "And Marcus, don't hold back any more. It's not what either of us wants."




Just Curious Ch. 06



I get the honor of watching his eyes widen in surprise. He stares at me for a long time, probably deciding if he should jump for joy or punish me more for telling him what to do. Whatever. I'm here, and I can take whatever he gives.

We start over from one, only this time I remember to count. The spanks hurt like the first few. He was holding back. It's an explosion of pain followed by an electric tingle. My ass and thighs are on fire. My knees are sore. My tits are...weird. In the mirror they are swollen and a deep red color. My nipples stretched wide against the taut skin.

Every four or five times, he stops and massages my burning skin. His hands feel so good, it's almost enough to make me forget the pain. He licks or fingers my sopping pussy, but never enough to make me cum. 

"How many was that so far?" I've been keeping track. In a small voice I tell him eighteen. "How do you feel?" 

I honestly don't know. "I'm on fire. I feel out of control. Helpless, but somehow strong at the same time. Exhausted, and more alive than I've ever felt before. Please fuck me, Marcus. Please. I can't take this anymore. Please."

He shushes me, telling me 'very soon'. I can barely keep my head up. I watch passively as the paddle comes down for the last of my punishment. My limp body jolts forward against its bonds as the paddle impacts my thigh. A small groan is the only sound I make.

After the 22 paddles for my punishment, Marcus takes some time to admire his handiwork and snap a few more pictures. I'm exhausted. I just hang there. There's nothing else for me to do. Something is different though. Instead of praising me and telling me 'good girl' and things similar to that, he gets vulgar and crude. "You were made to be used by me." "That pussy is gushing." "You fucking love the pain, don't you?" "Pain slut" "You're going to be screaming when I ram my cock in you." From behind me, he takes me by the hair and pulls my head up, staring at me in the mirror. "Beg. Beg for my cock."

The words tumble unhindered out of my mouth. "Please Marcus, Please fuck me. Use me. Please. I can't wait any longer. Please, I need your cock inside me. Fuck me, Marcus, please fuck me." My breathing hitches as I feel the heat from his cock pressing against the entrance to my pussy. I'm soaking wet. 

This is it. We both know it. My scream echoes through the room as he slams himself inside me. "Keep your eyes on me." He stands motionless behind me. 

"Uh god. Holy fuck. Is it in?" I can't inhale deep enough to recover from the scream. The ropes are keeping my chest constricted.

"Not even close, little girl. I'm going to fill that tight little cunt up until you're split in two." A high pitched whine escapes my throat as he slowly pulls out. My body is jarred again and again as he slams into me over and over. Without warning my core erupts. My body twists as much as the ropes allow and my pussy clamps down on the long hard muscle pounding inside of me. Marcus is groaning above me, standing still as a statue and he experiences the pleasure of my first orgasm caressing his cock.

I'm not sure if it's the orgasm or if I'm hallucinating, but I think I hear bells. Marcus starts swearing. With his cock still balls deep in my pussy, he starts releasing the ropes pulling my elbows together. I kneel there passively as the ropes slide against my skin. I can feel the tension drain out of my shoulder blades as my elbows are released. My hands are still tied to ropes around my hips.

In similar fashion, my ankles are released from my thighs. My feet hang uselessly off the edge of the table. I hiss when he starts unwinding the ropes from around my breasts. The coarse filaments of the ropes were digging into my enlarged tits. The excess rope drops to the table top and large hands manhandle my soft tender engorged flesh. The pain and pleasure mingle together incoherently. I don't know if I should beg him to stop, or beg him for more. My chest it tingling painfully as blood flow is returned to them. "Please."

With that one little word, Marcus goes back to slamming inside me. I am forced to watch him through the mirror. His muscles tensing before each thrust. My body is jolted forward on the table. My tits are swinging lewdly under me. The only things holding me up are the ropes and his hand in my hair. 

He slips one hand across my throat, holding my head up, but not squeezing my throat. His other hand grabbing a fistful of rope across my back and using it to pull my body back against his thrusts. The crude language starts again. "Take every god damn inch." "I'm gonna stretch that tight little tunnel of yours over and over and over again." Each word emphasized by ramming his cock inside me.

My body is spiraling out of control. I scream as he pulls another orgasm out of me. The muscles in my stomach clamping down, my body twitching helplessly. Marcus never stops thrusting. Never stops fucking me. Never stops using me.

I'm exhausted and can't hold my back straight anymore. As it sags toward the table, Marcus takes the hand that was holding the ropes on my back and instead places it on my tummy to hold me up. He leans in, still fucking me mercilessly, and whispers darkly in my ear. "Do you know why you've been swallowing my cock all morning? I'll tell you why." He continues pounding inside me, my body is his to use. "I knew how tight your cunt was. I also knew how reactive you are to pain and pleasure. I emptied my balls down your throat, so when I finally claimed that tight little pussy, I wouldn't pop off right away. I wanted to make sure I was able to use you for a long fucking time before I came again." The hand over my windpipe pulls back a fraction of an inch, showing his absolute control over my body. "You will endure me while I pound that pussy into submission."

The crude, scary words; the pain and pleasure my body is experiencing; and the way Marcus has completely dominated me all drive me over the edge again. My body shatters under the onslaught. Marcus never breaks the brutal pace he has set. His sweat dripping down onto my back. His cock driving into me again and again and again; hurting me; pleasuring me; owning me.

I don't remember how many times I came that day. I don't know how long Marcus fucked me. I remember the moment he came, his finger digging painfully into my hips. His cock erupting and filling me with cum. Then the slow rhythmic removal of the ropes. He soft whoosh as they move against each other. The mild burn as they slide along my flesh. The tugs and pulls on my body. Even the gradual return of control over my own body is a foggy, slippery memory dancing in my mind. 

Marcus picks my limp body up off the table and carries me to his room. The bright afternoon light hurts my eyes after the darkness of the playroom. He lays me gently in the bed, I wince when my backside hits to mattress. He rolls me onto my belly before getting something out of the dresser. I fall fast asleep with Marcus massaging ointment into my skin.

*********

I wake up with a groan. I'm lying on my belly, the least comfortable position ever. There's a pillow under my chest, and one arm is up over my head. My other arm is at my side, and there's someone else's hand holding it. Marcus! I had sex! Really great sex!

I jump up. Or maybe not. Another groan escapes my lips as I collapse back onto the bed. I look toward Marcus. He looks peaceful lying in the bed on his back. I notice a small smile form on his sleeping face. "Now that is a beautiful sound to wake up to."

Huh? "What sound?" All I did was groan.

His eyes open lazily. "The groan of a well used woman is music to my ears." He squeezes my hand and rolls over onto his side. He strokes the side of my face and slips a lock of hair behind my ear. "Absolutely beautiful."

I spend the next few minutes trying to shift onto my side. The pillow has to get moved up toward the headboard. The blanket has to get untwisted from my legs. Painstakingly slowly I have to shift onto my side without moving my legs or letting anything touch my ass or thighs. Marcus watches silently, enjoying my predicament. 

"You're such a gentleman. Thanks for the help." A bark of laughter lightens the room. He leans in and kisses me. It's soft and slow, drawing me in to his embrace. 

"How do you feel?" Already? 400 questions time again. I tell him I'm sore, my ass is burning, and I'm completely happy. "Did you enjoy the shibari?" 

"I loved the shibari. I think I even heard bells." 

More laughter. "That was the timer on my watch. You can only be in those types of positions for so long before it could hurt you. You weren't completely suspended, so you got 15 minutes before I had to release the pressure on your joints." 

"Suspended?"

"Hanging from the ceiling. Although if we did that, it could only be there for ten minutes. You'd have to build up strength and flexibly for longer sessions. 

"What about the language? Did you like being talked down to?"

"The first few times, but after that is just got weird." He asks for specifics on each and every little thing. He asks if I liked his hand wrapped around my throat. He asks a million questions about the not-a-panic-attack. What I was feeling, what my body was feeling, how it was different from last night. He asks about the mirrors and the hard fucking, and my orgasms, and everything else. My answers just slip out of my mouth. No thinking, no hesitation, no embarrassment; just honest answers to a multitude of questions. 

Eventually he seems satisfied and we just lay there looking at each other. I don't know why, but I'm horny again. It seems to be a constant state of arousal for me. I'm too out-of-sorts for flirting or anything else, so I ask him directly: "Are you going to fuck me now?"

"I wasn't planning on it. You're probably pretty sore and I was going to take it easy on you tonight." Marcus laughs as my face contorts into a pout. He leans in and kisses me. "Don't worry, girl. We have a long week ahead of us. There will be plenty of fucking going on." He's got a little twinkle in his eye, but he said he wasn't going to fuck me anymore today. I'm frustrated now. How do I get him to fuck me? The answer is so simple, I almost didn't think of it. It's the same thing he always wants from me. Begging. Begging is how I get him to fuck me.

I lift myself off the bed, ignoring the pain flaring to life in my ass and thighs. I kiss his chin, and slowly make my way along his jaw line. One hand is resting on his chest. Nibbling on his ear, I make my plea soft and desperate. "Please fuck me, Marcus. I can't get enough. Please I need to feel you stretching my pussy. Please use me. Please." 

I lean back to look him in the eyes. His brow is set. "I used you hard this afternoon, you must be sore. I don't want to hurt you. We need to get going soon anyway." Oh hell no! He is not getting out of this bed without fucking me first.

I slip my knee between his legs, gently moving it up till it fits snugly between them. The hand that was on his chest moves down to grasp his manhood, gently tugging it. "Thank you for using me this afternoon. Thank you for slamming your cock into my core. Thank you for allowing me to cum." I'm rocking back and forth over his body; my knee, hand, and chest working in unison up and down his massive frame. "Please fuck me again. I'll take whatever pain or pleasure you can give me." Looking into his eyes again, letting him read the need on my face. "Please fuck me, Marcus. Please hurt me. I enjoy the pain you give me. I need you to fill me again. Please, I'm begging you. Please fuck me."

Marcus closes his eyes and groans. One large hand slides up my back to my neck and grasps a handful of hair. In that one motion, I give control over to him. I've begged, now all I can do is wait and see what he decides. Together he rolls us over, until I'm on my back. I arch up as my burning skin touches the sheets underneath me. My mouth opens in a soft groan, and Marcus delves in for a kiss. He presses his knee between my legs and I open them until he's situated between them. One hand is kneading my breasts, the other is slipping between my folds, checking how wet I am. I must be ready because I feel the tip of his cock pressing between my lips. I spread my legs wider, my hands roaming over his hard chest. "Please."

Slowly Marcus sinks himself into my core. My back arches up in response to the pain and pleasure I'm experiencing. He was right, my pussy is so very sore. My bruised ass and thighs refused to slip out of my consciousness without a fight. But that's OK. Without the pain, I wouldn't be experiencing the pleasure. The flitter in my pussy as it is stretched and used again. The tension in my core as it anticipates the build-up and explosive release of pleasure. 

His hands are roaming freely over my body, exploring and exciting every inch he can reach. My hands are grasping the sides of his chest, desperately trying not to fall off the face of the planet. Marcus is my world now. Everything centers around him. "Please."

Marcus fucks me slow and easy. Satisfying my desperate need, but always mindful of damaging the luscious creature writhing underneath him. He doesn't play around this time. He brings me right to the brink, then pushes me over the edge. The muscles in my pussy sending him over the edge as he fills me with more of his cum. 

They lie together for a while. My body drifts back down to earth as I feel his cock shrinking inside me. His breathing is returning to normal. Soft kisses play across my face. "Thank you, Marcus. Thank you."

Marcus kisses me as he rolls us onto our side. "You are so beautiful. I can't say no to you. Now we're ARE late, so get the sexy ass of yours out of my bed." He spanks my ass; I yelp and jump out of bed. "See how easy it is to obey me." He's smirking at me as he climbs out of bed. "Shower now. You have 15 minutes to be dressed and ready in the living room." He turns me around and pushes me gently toward the door. 

I put my hair up and take a quick, cool shower, washing away the evidence of our recent lovemaking. I put on some minimal make-up. In the bedroom, on my bed, is a dark blue dress with a square neckline, gold accents down one side, and an uneven hemline. I slip it over my head, check myself in the mirror, and walk gingerly into the living room. Marcus is waiting for me in a dark suit and pants. Damn, that is one good looking man.

We head out in the big bright city; the sun is low in the sky, maybe an hour before dusk. We walk a few blocks, holding hands and just talking. He walks at a pace my sore body can manage without too much suffering. My face lights up as we stop in front of huge sign outside a casino. In big blue lights: 'Cirque du Soleil – O'. I've always wanted to see a Cirque show, and 'O' is supposed to be one of the best. 

The show was as extraordinary as I expected. I even managed for forget that I was sitting on my bruised ass after the first 15 minutes. Leaning forward in my seat, drinking in the performance with Marcus running his hand up and down my back. Absolutely wonderful. 

After the show, I thank him. I reach up and place my hand along his jaw as I kiss him. His hand on my lower back, he pulls me into him. The embrace lasted longer than I expected. "I know I like to hear you begging, but I'm also getting quite fond of hearing 'thank you' coming out of that delicious mouth of yours."

We walk through the crowds to a quiet little sushi restaurant one block off the main strip. We sit at the bar, watching the sushi chef making our meals. We sit and eat and talk for almost two hours. He makes me laugh. He shocks me with dirty little secrets (he can't get his mom to stop calling him Marky). He tells me about what he does to some of his submissives.

I tell him about my family, and my work, and social life, adding in a few interesting stories here and there. It's almost date-like, except there's no question about whether or not I'm going to fuck him. We finish dinner and walk back to his place. He has me strip in the living room. He takes pictures of me, particularly my red ass and thighs as I stand against the windows with the lights of Vegas glittering through the glass. 

Then he puts me to bed. No restraints. No punishments. No sex. He just tucks me in bed and starts to leave. I open my mouth to protest, but he lifts a finder and shakes his head. "Don't even start, girl. You need some rest, and I have some work to do. You did very good today. I am proud of you. Now get some sleep. I'm taking you to work with me tomorrow morning. I need you rested and beautiful." He kisses me good night, and heads out the door, turning the light out as he goes. That was kind of anticlimactic. I roll onto my side. I must have been more tired than I knew, because I fall asleep within minutes.



Just Curious Ch. 07



Hello my pervy readers. I added a little bonus to the end of this one. A sneak peak at chapter 8. Just a little gift from me to make the 1 week wait all the more excruciating. Enjoy.

*****

(Monday)

Groggy. There's water dripping on me. Is my roof leaking? I wake up with a start and scream. "Marcus. You scared me! Eeuuuww. You're dripping sweat on me." He's all sweaty from a workout. I try to shove him away, but he doesn't budge. He smiles down at me and shakes his head. More sweat showers down on me. "Gross!"

"More incentive for you to get the sexy reddened ass in the shower. Time to get up." And with a flourish he pulls the sheets off me. He turns to leave as they flutter to the ground. "Be in the kitchen in an hour."

I stare at the ceiling. With a groan and a wince I roll out of bed and plod to the bathroom. It's only 6AM, how can that man be so happy this early in the morning. I look for a razor to shave with, but all I see is a tooth brush, a hair brush, soap, and hair care products. I'll have to remember to ask him for one. I shower, and get ready for my morning. Sitting on the bed is a bright red halter top style dress. There is black lacing up the sides giving it the look of a corset. 

I slip it over my head. It's way too short for me. I adjust the knot at the back of my neck, lowering it but keeping my 'girls' covered. Oh, I'm not liking this dress at all. The back is open almost all the way to my ass. It's too bright; too showy, too short. I don't feel comfortable wearing this. I stare at the dress in the mirror for a while, but my one hour is almost up. 

Marcus is setting the food on the table as I walk in. "Perfect timing. You look absolutely gorgeous. Spin for me." That last one was a command, so I spin around. The skirt flares out and I use my hands to keep it down. "Aww Don't do that, let it flare. It was sexy."

"Marcus, I don't feel comfortable in this dress." I look at my feet, not knowing what to expect from him. He comes to me and lifts my chin. "Why? It's a beautiful dress. It makes your beauty shine through."

"It's too short. Too red. Too...I don't know. Too... showy." He doesn't say anything, just stares at me. That makes me more uncomfortable, so I keep talking. "I'm not the kind of girl that wears dresses like this. It's too flashy. Everyone will look at me." Marcus puts up his hand and I stop talking.

He walks around me. I just stand there, waiting. "First, you're not a girl, you're a woman. There's a big difference. I call you 'girl' to let you know that I'm responsible for you; that you belong to me. Don't ever confuse the two. You are a woman."

He lifts my chin again, forcing me to look at him. "Second, what you wear is my choice, not yours. I admire that you told me how you are feeling. I know how hard that must have been. Thank you. But, I see nothing wrong with this dress. I want you to look beautiful, and this dress definitely looks good on you."

"Third, and last, is trust. I am so proud of you for telling me what you were feeling. That's what trust is about. But you need to trust in me also. I will push you boundaries, but I also have a pretty good idea of your personality, I don't want to change who you are. I know you don't like to be the center of attention. I know you would be uncomfortable wearing this dress in public. Trust this."

My confusion must be showing on my face, or he's reading my mind. "You will wear this dress for me today." He lets that decision hang in the air for a while. "But not in public. Today we are going to my office, and then a special, not-to-public, treat for you this afternoon while I finish up some other work. I want to make you shine, always remember that." He kisses me. I nod and smile up at him. "Good girl. Let's have some breakfast."

The table is loaded with food again, and I'm starving. My stomach drops as I notice there is only one chair at the table. Instantly, I look at the floor. There's the dog bed, right beside the chair. My anger from yesterday flares back to life instantly. Marcus is sitting himself down at the table. He lifts his head, watching my reaction. He looks completely calm and a torrent of emotion is coursing through me. I can't. I'm not a dog.

My eyes are locked on his, as he calmly glances at the counter behind him. I follow his gaze. Chains. There's a pile of chains on the countertop. I see something that looks like handcuffs in that pile of chains. I look back at Marcus; he's been watching me the whole time as I process the situation. Damn him.

"Kneel" Just that one word makes my body twitch. He usually uses it when he's going to fuck me. Now, it's just to humiliate me. I look back at the chains. Do I really have a choice? It takes me a long time before I walk over to Marcus, drop down onto the dog bed, and hang my head in shame. I can feel tears trying to form, but I fight them back. "Good girl." He even has the audacity to pat my head. 

We don't talk during breakfast. He feeds me from his fingers, and I choke down the morsels. The hardest part is drinking because I have to tilt my head up and look at him when he places the glass to my lips. Toward the end of the meal, a single tear escapes and slides down my check. Marcus gently wipes it away.

After breakfast, he clears the table in silence and starts the dishwasher, leaving me kneeling on the floor. He turns the chair to face me and sits down. We stay like this for a while; him staring at me from above, me staring at the tile between his shoes.

I watch his hand come into view, reaching toward my face, and instinctually I pull away. One word, 'Don't', puts me back in my place. His hand caresses my earlobe, follows my jugular down and back up the center of my neck, lifting my chin until my gaze catches his eyes. 

His eyes roam over my face, examining every inch, deciphering it for hidden meaning. "I am very proud that you knelt when I told you to. I know it was hard for you."

I can almost feel the venom dripping from my voice. "I didn't have much choice, did I? You made sure I saw the chains before you told me to kneel."

He nods. "No, you didn't. One way or another you would have knelt for me. But I'm proud that you did it on your own, without too much fighting. You were a very good girl for me. Thank you." I can feel my blood start to boil. Thank you! He degrades me, treats me like a dog, and all I get is thank you.

"How do you feel?" 

"I hate you! I'm sitting here like a dog, and all you can say 'thank you'! I am not an animal. I am not a thing." I can't help it, tears start streaming down my face. Marcus kneels down and wraps his arms around me. One part of me wants to pull away, but another part leans into him, his solidness a lifeboat in the turmoil of emotions racking my mind. 

Marcus just holds me and lets me cry. It seems like an eternity before I can stop; numbness replacing the anger. "You are not a dog. I don't..."

"I'm kneeling on a dog bed getting fed scraps of food!"

His continued calmness is irritating. "Don't interrupt me. You are not a dog. You are not kneeling on a dog bed. I don't want you to think like that. Feeding and grooming are basic tools to earn trust. You need to trust me. What you are feeling is coming entirely from your mind. YOU are making this difficult. YOU are endangering everything you have achieved, over nothing. Don't look at me like that. This is nothing. In the last 48 hours you have been stripped naked indoors and out, punished in front of strangers, photographed nude and in compromising positions, and been used to the point of your exhaustion. And you choose this to fixate on. Yes, you CHOOSE this, out of everything. You choose this."

I'm still pissed. He's turning this humiliation back on me, but a part of my brain was listening to his argument. He did do all those things to me, and I didn't balk. This is simple compared to half of that. Why does this matter so much? He lets me churn this around in my brain for a bit until it's time to go.

Marcus lifts me under my arms. I stand shakily in the kitchen, the skimpiness of the red dress not forgotten. He escorts me to my bathroom, and has me fix my face. He never leaves me alone. We go down to the SUV and drive out into the city in complete silence. Eventually Marcus points out a 3-story white mansion. There's a parking lot surrounded by a 3-foot high red brick wall. Marcus pulls around to the side of the building and into another parking lot in the rear, this one surrounded by a high wrought iron fence. We wait at the gate a few seconds before it starts to slide open, Marcus pulls into one of three reserved spots nearest the building. 

I want to ask where we are, but I don't want to speak to him, so I remain silent. He gets out of the car, then opens my door and helps me out. He doesn't seem mad, just quiet. We walk into the rear entrance of the building. There's a finely decorated foyer with an open meeting area and a grand curved staircase leading up to the second and third floors. 

A well-dressed black man greets us. From the conversation they have, it seems like this man, Elliot, is taking over the brunt of Marcus's responsibilities while he's with me. Elliot's attention turns to me. "So this is what has your attention this week. She's a looker, for sure. How's it going?"

Marcus shrugs his shoulders as they look me over. "It has its ups and downs." It hurts that I'm not doing better. Even after everything, I still find that I want to please this man. I think about all my failures; the dress shop, the panic attack, the fight this morning. Marcus lifts my chin. "You're a good girl. Don't fret so much." How does he know what I'm thinking? "How about a tour?" Not sure what my voice will sound like, I just nod.

He escorts me to the front of the house, and shows me several large rooms. One has an elaborate poker table with a nude female dealer. Another looks like a living room, it has several sofas and a large screen TV dominating one wall. The third and largest room is a full bar. The bartender and the wait staff, both male and female, and nude from the waist up. There are several tables, some sofas, a pool table and two dart boards. Most people we meet greet Marcus with 'Sir' and then look me over top to bottom. I hate this dress. 

Marcus sees me fidget with the dress. "Stop it. You look great."

"Is this a brothel?" It's obvious, but I still need to ask. 

"This is my brothel. It's also where my main office is. So this is where I do most of my work." I ask what's upstairs. He says the top two floors are all bedrooms. He winks down at me, and asks if I want to try a few of them out. He laughs when I shake my head no. "It's legal." He's presses again, my answer is still no. He leads me to the back again, to where we met Elliot.

I follow Marcus into his office and he leaves me to sit behind a huge desk watching me. His office is professional and masculine. He doesn't say anything until I realize he's waiting for me to stop looking around. "Did you think about what happened this morning?"

I look down at my feet. "A little. I'm not sure what I feel yet."

"Look at me when you answer my questions." I force myself to look at him. "What exactly does 'not sure yet' mean?"

I try to look away, but he corrects me again. Why is this so hard? "I know I was livid sitting on the floor like that. But I heard what you said. That wasn't the worst thing you had me do. So I'm not sure why it made me so angry. It just did and I don't know why yet."

He watches me, either waiting for me to continue or processing the information, I'm not sure. "I'm going to keep asking until I get a suitable answer. I would also like you to kneel and be fed tomorrow, but with an open mind. I know you had a problem with it today, but seeing as you don't know why you had the problem, I want you to figure it out. The best way is to experience it again. Understood"

Damn, I have to do that again. "Yes, sir."

Something flashes in his eyes. "Don't call me 'sir'."

"Ummm... Everyone calls you sir."

He arches an eyebrow at me. "They do. My friends, my employees, and my enemies all refer to me as such. My employers even call me sir, but you are none of those. I prefer you calling me Marcus. I like the way your voice caresses the syllables." My cheeks start to flush.

He points to the floor by his feet. "Kneel."

My body starts to tingle as I walk in front of him, drop to my knees, place my hands, palms up, on my thighs, and look at the floor.

"Good girl. Your little temper tantrum this morning made me reconsider my pleasure with you. I didn't want to tempt fate, and you definitely do not want to know the punishment if I ever feel teeth on my cock." He thought I might bite him! "Now that you've calmed down, you're going to apologize to me, then you're going to service me."

I look up at him; his eyes are cold and hard. Glancing down, I see his cock straining against his pants. I close my eyes and take a calming breath. "I'm sorry I was angry this morning. I'm sorry I disappointed you. And I'm sorry you didn't get to use me when you wanted to. Please forgive, Marcus. I'll try harder. I promise."

I reach up to open his pants. "tsk tsk tsk What are you doing?"

I stop and stay as still as possible. "You said to apologize then to give you a blow job."

"What are you forgetting, girl?" His eyes are glittering with excitement.

Begging. He wants me to beg. I put my hands back on my thighs, eyes on the floor. "Please may I use my mouth to pleasure you? Please let me make up for my behavior this morning. Please Marcus."

I wait. And wait. It seems like an eternity. I am just about to beg again when he gives me permission to pleasure him. Slowly, waiting for more surprises, I reach up and open his pants. He doesn't move. It takes a little maneuvering to work his large cock out where I can get at it. I glance up and Marcus is watching every move I make. 

I try to remember everything I learned on the kayaking trip. I suck and lick and try to swallow him. He gives tips and encouragement as his cock starts to grow in my mouth. I'm trying again to get past my gag reflex when I hear some beeps. At first I thought he was taking more pictures with his cell phone, but then I hear him talking. "Elliot, would you come in here for a few minutes." 

I try to pull off his cock, but he's faster and his hand is on the back of my head. I want to get off him before Elliot comes in, so I try to push off from his thighs. "Hands off, girl. Relax. I want Elliot to see what a good girl you are. Keep going." I hear the door open, but I'm in no position to see anything. 

I stop struggling, but don't continue the blow job either. Marcus doesn't seem to mind as he's taken over. He scoots down in the chair a bit to give himself a better angle. He tells me to inhale. Once I've done that he tells me to swallow. Ah crap. I close my eyes and force myself to swallow the thick hard cock in my mouth. With an initial gag, Marcus slides his cock down my throat. My hands flutter up off my thighs, but I force myself to put them back down.

Marcus tells me to swallow over and over again. Over and over he pushes himself down my throat. Once I stop worrying about everything and just focus on Marcus, it seems to get easier. The speed increases and he stops instructing me. I have to concentrate hard and follow his rhythm. I hear a low growl coming from above me. Marcus shoves his twitching cock down my throat one more time and erupts. I can't breathe; I just sit there and wait for him to finish. Eventually he pulls out and I'm coughing and gasping at his feet. 

I look behind me and spot Elliot immediately. He's sitting in a comfortable chair along the wall near the windows. He has a perfect view of my ass and what Marcus and I were doing. I wipe my face with the back of my hand as Marcus leans down to praise me. 

Marcus rolls his chair away from me and stands, tucking himself back in. Elliot is standing as Marcus helps me to my feet. I can't look at Elliot; I just stick next to Marcus's side. Marcus kisses the top of my head before the two men start another work related conversation. 

When they're done, Marcus wants me to go with Elliot. He's says he has some stuff to do, and I would distract him too much. I don't move, so Elliot has to come get me. He takes my hand and guides me out of the big office. Marcus is following quietly behind us or I'd be panicking a lot more. Along the wall in the large foyer there's a platform. Elliot has me step up onto the platform. He tells me to stay and Marcus hands him some wide leather cuffs. "Wrists please." I look toward Marcus and he nods his head so I offer my arms to Elliot. After the cuffs are on, he attaches them to a chain hanging from the ceiling. Marcus hands him a small remote control unit, and I hear the soft whir of a motor as my wrists are pulled up. Higher and higher my wrists go till I'm up on my tippie-toes. 

Marcus and Elliot stand in front of me, admiring the view for a while. Marcus takes a few pictures of me hanging there in the skimpy red dress. Eventually Marcus gives Elliot some instructions. "No one touches her. No one degrades her. You keep her safe for me."

Elliot answers professionally. "Yes sir. I'll keep her safe."

Then he looks at me. "Elliot is in charge of you this morning, understand? You listen to him and do as he says." He stops and lets me process that. "You will not look anyone in the eye. You will not speak to anyone, other than Elliot, for any reason, even if they ask you a question. Elliot is going to take care of you, you listen to him. You answer him respectfully. If you're bad, I'll know." And he points to a small camera near the massive spiral staircase.

Marcus steps closer and kisses me, pulling my body into his. I melt into him. "Such a good girl. You're safe here, don't fret so much. I have to get some work done." Marcus goes back into his office, and Elliot takes his original place by the check-in podium.

It doesn't take long before the first customer comes to the back. I see him looking at me as he walks down the wide hall toward Elliot. "Eyes down, girl. I do have permission to punish you." Crap! I drop my eyes to the floor. How humiliating.

The man walking down the hall stops in front of me and lets out a low whistle. "Is she for sale?"

What? No Way! Elliot answers before I can get myself into any more trouble. "No, she's just for show. That one belongs to the boss."

"Aww, too bad. You know how much I love the long-legged beauties." I continue to stare at the floor as this man gives Elliot the picture of the hooker (prostitute?) he wants to have. I don't look up until they discuss payment. The man wants to pay with credit card, and Elliot gives him two options. I look up and see two credit card readers. One has a sign that says 'Lazy River Golf Course' and the other says 'Sunset Auto and Body Shop'

The man picks the auto shop. "I just told my wife last week the car was making a funny noise." Elliot rings up the charge and the man signs for it. Elliot thanks the man and tells him to enjoy himself. He reminds him that Shelly is heading back to college at UCLA in a few weeks. The man just nods and says he's sure he'll find someone else from the stable here. I think Elliot was trying to get a better tip for her. 

I watch as the man takes the receipt and walks up the stairs, whistling softy. Suddenly Elliot is walking toward me. He takes me by the head and points it toward the floor. "Most men don't want an audience when they're here to relax. You keep your eye downcast, do you understand?"

"Yes, Elliot, I'm sorry."

"You will call me sir."

I will never understand stupid men rules. "Yes sir. I understand."

My arms are getting sore as they bear most of my weight. Men stroll down the hallway every so often, while other men descend the stairs and return to the front rooms. Pictures of women, and a few men, are brought to the back by the men, and there's an older lady, maybe 45-50ish, who returns the pictures to the front when the prostitutes are available again. Most of the men slow, or even stop, in front of me. Some ask questions that Elliot answers, other just take a good look before continuing on.




Just Curious Ch. 07



Just about when the soreness is becoming painful, my arms are suddenly lowered so I can stand on flat-feet. I look up to see what's different. Elliot comes over and rubs my bare shoulders, asking if they're OK. I nod my head yes. Elliot takes my chin and shakes it gently. "You will not talk to customers, but you will answer me when I ask you something." His eyes are locked onto mine.

"Yes sir. My arms are sore, but they're OK. Thank you for lowering me."

"Much better. It's only temporary; you'll be up again in a little bit." He returns to the podium. About ten minutes later I'm raised back up onto my toes again. Men come and go down the hall. Time passes slowly. I'm lowered for some relief, then raised up again.

Suddenly there is a young man stumbling down the hall. "Holy fuck. Why don't I have art like that hanging in my house? Gonna enjoy that cunt today." He's obviously drunk from the slurring of his words and inability to walk in a straight line. 

There is nowhere for me to go. I can only watch him getting closer. He is about 5 feet away from me, reaching toward my breasts. Elliot swoops in just as the drunk man crosses the archway into the foyer and slams him into the wall. "Fuck dude. I just want to use that whore. I got money."

Elliot tells him I'm not for sale, but his three buddies are closing in, and they aren't happy about Elliot grabbing their friend. All four guys are arguing with Elliot, it only takes a few seconds for all hell to break lose. One of the buddies moves aggressively toward Elliot, as the drunk grabs for his face. Elliot doesn't blink. The drunk gets pinned to the wall when Elliot grabs him by the throat, closing off his air supply.

The click of the gun echoes loudly in all the chaos. Everyone stops. The man Elliot has pinned to the wall is sobering up quickly. The three buddies, staring down the barrel of a large caliber handgun, are frozen in place. I notice more men in suits appearing, one from a doorway under the staircase, and two more move up silently behind the three buddies. Everything stops.

Elliot is the first to speak. "She is not for sale. Period." The drunk pinned to the wall is starting to gasp, his face turning red from lack of oxygen. Elliot gives him one breath, then squeezes his neck again. All eyes, except Elliot's, suddenly look toward the back of the building. I turn to see an incredibly pissed off Marcus coming out his office. His jacket is off and his white shirt is rolled up at his sleeves. He looks bigger than usual, muscles everywhere. Elliot clicks something on the gun and slips it behind his back. Marcus is stalking toward the men. They try to back up, but hit the two employees who surrounded them without their knowing.

Marcus towers over everyone. "What's the problem here?" Shit, remind me not to piss Marcus off. Even I'm scared of him right now, and he's not even focused on me. 

Indicating the drunk, Elliot replies: "This one here wanted your girl, boss."

"Really?" The slow lazy way it rolls off his tongue causes the drunk to start trembling. Elliot releases him and steps back. The drunk is trying to push himself through the wall at his back. Anything to get away from Marcus. 

"You think you can please her more than me?" Marcus is right in front of him, staring down at him.

"No! No sir." More stuttering and slurring. He's craning his neck, trying to look up at Marcus.

"Oh, so then you want to try to forcibly take her away from me? We can go outside if you want to try your luck."

The drunk looks to his buddies, they're all wide-eyed and completely useless to the drunk. "No sir. Please. I didn't mean anything by it. This is a brothel, and she's gorgeous, I just assumed she was available. I didn't know she was yours. Honest. I didn't mean to offend you, sir."

Holy crap! Everyone does call him 'sir'. Marcus waves his hand, and the three other bodyguard/bouncers move in. "Escort them out quietly." 

As the four men are shuffled down the hall and out of my sight, Marcus suddenly turns and looks at me. He still looks pissed as he reaches out for my face. I try to pull away as he takes my chin and looks me over. He doesn't say anything, just examines me. "Elliot, take care of her. Why the hell is Sharon serving drunks like that? Why wasn't anyone on them when they walked in the door?" Marcus turns and storms to the front.

Elliot exhales slowly. He looks toward me and lifts his eyebrows. "He's in a mood now. Be extra good the next few hours, OK? Don't give him any reason to get angry." He brings over an antique chair and lowers my arms and uncuffs them, offering me a seat. A bottle of water is handed to me. Marcus storms back in. He looks at me sitting on the chair and I freeze, remembering Elliot's warning. 

Marcus and Elliot discuss the incident. From what I can overhear, the guys just walked in. One of them had been here a few times before, they'll show pictures to someone named Gin when she comes in to work tonight; apparently she remembers everyone's name and face. They'll flag that guy and have a sit down chat with him if he ever comes back in. The bartender Sharon did not serve drinks to them, so she's not in trouble. The guys just walked in less than two minutes before the incident started, no one had any warning or opportunity to react. Marcus glowers at me again before storming into his office.

Elliot exhales again. "He's not a happy man. No one did anything wrong that he can blame." He looks down at me. "You OK?"

I nod my head. "Yes sir. He didn't touch me, but it was a scary thing to experience. Do you always carry a gun?"

Elliot grins. "Occupational requirement. Marcus said to keep you safe, and I might have gone a bit overboard. But I really didn't want that" he jerks his head toward Marcus's door "chomping down on my ass today."

"Is he really angry? Or are you just trying to frighten me?"

Elliot thinks about this before answering. "The situation wasn't too bad. They were harmless kids for the most part, and there were enough good people around to contain it. This is more of an image thing. It would have looked real bad if HIS girl got assaulted in HIS brothel just outside HIS office. It would have put into question his strength and ability to control his business interests."

"Really? All that was riding on those few minutes of confusion?"

He nods his head. "This is Vegas. Reputation is everything. You ready to go back up again?" He indicates the chains. I nod my head yes. He glowers at me before I remember to speak. "Yes, sir. I'm ready to go back up."

I stand and raise my wrist for him, as he's going to clip the chains on, I stop him. I feel I need to see Marcus. I don't know why, it's just a gut feeling, but my gut has been guiding me for most of this adventure. "Can I see him first? Please."

Elliot considers my request. Apparently my visiting Marcus during work was not covered before. He nods his head, and steps back, giving me space to step off the platform. I step down and on shaky legs walk toward the door to Marcus's office. I take one last look back at Elliot before stepping inside.

He doesn't notice me at first, his back is slightly turned away and he's growling at someone on the phone. I take another tentative step forward, and another. He turns and glowers at me. "What?"

I stop, transfixed by his glare. I didn't expect him to direct his anger at me. Again my gut decides my actions for me. Pleasure and pain are best when together. Anger is similar to pain; maybe pleasure will neutralize that as well.

I easily, with a confidence I don't feel inside, reach behind me to untie the knot of my halter top. I let the fabric slide over my shoulders, fluttering down as my breasts are revealed. I take another few steps toward the large desk. About half way there, I slip my thumbs into the red fabric around my waist. I ease the material gently over my hips, letting the dress drop to the floor and pool around my feet.

I stand there exposed. Marcus has stopped speaking, and rather rudely hangs up on whoever he was talking with. I continue toward him, he pivots his chair as he follows my motion, until I'm standing in front of this man. I stand there for what seems like forever. Marcus drinks in my nude body. I see the change in his eyes; the hardness is slowly being replaced with lust. Pain and pleasure.

I remember what Elliot told me, and use that to sooth him. "I am safe. No harm came to me. No one touched what is yours." I lean over, eyes never leaving his, and starting releasing his cock. Pleasure and pain.

"No one doubts your strength. No one dare question your power." Finally I work him free, my hand wraps around the pliant tool between his legs. I'm eager to feel the steel start to form in my hand. Finally his hands are on me, squeezing my waist, gently rocking me back and forth. His eyes watch my breasts as they sway back and forth beneath me. A low growl leaves his parted lips. "What do you think you're doing, my little minx?"

I lean in slowly and kiss him before answering. "You taught me pleasure goes with pain. Your anger is pain. It's your right to take your pleasure now." His cock is twitching in my hand. I gently climb on top him. My legs hanging over the sides of the office chair. Arching my back, I slide his member between the moist folds covering my sex. "Please, Marcus. Take your pleasure from me. Use me. It's your right to have me. No one questions that. Please, Marcus. Use me."

With one hand twisting in my hair and the other arm wrapped around my waist, he prods until he finds my opening. Without warning he slams himself inside me. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me down. He pulls my head back, exposing my neck. I love when he controls me. His mouth finds my neck. His cock is filling me up deliciously. I know deliciously is a weird adjective, but I've been craving his cock in me. Always needing more. 

Once he gets a good rhythm, he pulls my body against his. The soft material of his shirt caressing my naked chest. Suddenly he stands up and slams me down against the top of the desk. He hooks an elbow behind my knee and pulls up one of my legs. My core opens allowing him to thrust deeper in me. My back arches up off the desk, and he slams into me again and again. His hand wraps around my throat as he starts swearing. My core erupts and my voice screams at the explosion. I feel Marcus blasting me full of cum before collapsing on top me. I keep forgetting how heavy he is.

I lay there quietly, letting him recover. His cock eventually slipping out of me. He heaves himself up and just stares down at me, not saying anything for the longest time. He puts his hand back on my throat and forces my head up so I can't see him. He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers softly. "You have no idea how much I would love to hurt you right now. To see how much you could endure. I know how hard I could make you cum." I don't dare respond as a tremble flows through me and my pussy starts to tingle. Fuck, how can he do that to me with just words?

He licks me from collarbone to the corner of my eye. It is the most possessive thing I have ever felt. "You taste so good when you've been well-fucked."

He stands and pulls me off the table and into his arms. He kneads my sore ass and his mouth descends on mine. I let him take whatever he wants. Whatever he needs. 

"ELLIOT!" He separates from me and waits for Elliot to show up in the doorway. Crap. The door was open this whole time.

"Yes sir?" I suppose seeing a naked woman is an everyday occurrence if you work in a brothel, but I still try to shield myself with Marcus's body.

"Hang her back up." He looks down at me and thanks me, then gently pushes me in Elliot's direction. Elliot is picking up the red dress off the floor. I cover myself as Elliot brings me my clothes. "Arms down, girl." Crap. I lower my arms as Elliot gets a good long look at me. He tells me to raise my arms as he slips the dress over my head and ties the halter behind my neck. 

I'm all sticky between my legs. "Can I use the bathroom first?"

Marcus looks back at me. "Do you have to go?"

"No, but I'd like to clean up." Elliot is adjusting the dress so it sits better.

"Elliot, did that sound like begging to you?" 

"No, sir. I did not hear any form of begging in there at all."

"Me neither, so the answer is 'No'. Get your butt out of my office." The anger from earlier is replaced by playfulness, and at the moment I'm not sure I prefer it.

Elliot is right there and I mouth the word 'traitor' at him. He does his best to suppress the laughter as he leads me out of the office. He has me step up on the platform again and clips my cuffs to the chains. "I have never seen anyone handle Marcus that way. You are extraordinary." I can feel my face turning beet red. Was he watching, or did he just overhear us? He kisses my forehead before clicking the button to lift me back up to my toes. He taps his finger against my nose. "And by-the-way, I love the shade of red your ass is sporting today." I fume and try to kick him, but he jumps out the way, as we both start laughing. Dork.

His seriousness returns. "Are you OK?"

"Yes sir. Some bits hurt more than others, but all-in-all, I think I'll be OK." He nods his head and returns to the podium. The rest of the morning goes by slowly. I'm lowered to relieve the pressure on my wrists and shoulders, then lifted back up. Men come and go through the foyer. Elliot is polite and professional the entire time. I keep my eyes down and bide my time.

Hanging there, focusing on nothing, I find my Zen place. Can't go anywhere. Can't do anything. Just hangin' around. I smile at my own stupid pun. Then something catches my attention. A sound. It's a mixture of familiar and out of place. There's a shuffling sound and a rasping, wheezing type noise. I was just going to take a quick peek and hope Elliot doesn't notice. 

My quick glance becomes a full on stare. The man struggling down the hall is ancient. His head is bald with those wispy stray hairs everywhere. He's got age spots, hearing aids, and he's wrinkly. He stops in front of me and looks me up and down. I watch, shocked, as he sets his false teeth. He's holding a woman's picture. OMG! He's going to make someone sleep with him. That is so disgusting. 

I watch transfixed as he waddles his way to the podium and hands Elliot the picture, pays, and then another man helps him to an elevator hidden in the wall. I don't realize the trouble I'm in till the elevator door slides closed, and I look around the room. Elliot's gaze is fixed on me as he leaves the podium and stalks over to me. 

"You were repeatedly warned about watching the clients? One simple little rule, that you can't seem to grasp. Hopefully a punishment will help you remember." He slides open a panel in the wall and takes out a crop. It's about two feet long, with a braided leather handle. What catches my attention is the two square strips of leather on the end; they have a metal Celtic design worked into the leather. That's going to leave a mark. Elliot lets me get a good look at the crop before sliding it down my body, from my neck to my knee. "Yes, I think this is just what's needed to help you remember the rules of the house."

He clicks the button and raises me until my feet can no longer touch the podium. He spins me around so I'm facing the wall that was behind me. My dress is lifted and tucked in, exposing my ass. Elliot spends a few moments caressing my already red ass. He slides the crop across the sensitive flesh causing me to tremble. 

His phone rings and he answers it, I still feel the hard leather teasing my ass as he talks.

"Yes, sir."

Silence as he listens to the caller. "Are you serious? Why?"

He stills as he listens. The crop has abandoned its exploration of my ass. I hear the voices of men coming down the hall. I can't twist to see them, but I hear two distinct voices. He hangs up the phone with a huff. "Fuck." He opens the panel and puts the crop back. "Looks like we're doing this old school. Don't hurt my hand." Like that'd be my fault.

The voices have stopped, but I can feel them gawking at us. The first spank I wasn't prepared for. A short sharp gasp escapes my mouth as my body swings helplessly. Elliot directs his next comment to the men watching. "Good morning, gentlemen. Would you mind waiting for a minute or two? This one has earned some punishment."

The men answer with New York accents. "Not a problem at all. It's good to see poor behavior corrected properly."

The other man gives out a short sharp laugh. "Looks like someone had a fun morning." I don't get the joke until I remember Marcus fucked me about an hour ago. I have his cum drying between my legs. I feel about two inches tall right now. Punished by another stranger and two other men standing there watching it, mocking me.

The slaps on my ass are slow and rhythmic. Four slaps, then he rubs my ass, two slaps and he lets me swing for a while. "Why are you being punished this morning, girl?

"I was watching the clients after being told not to. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He punishes me like this a total of four times. My ass was already sore from getting paddled by Marcus. Even though this isn't as hard as last night, my body is trembling uncontrollably when he finally finishes. The two men are still commenting.

It's hard to breathe hanging from my wrists. I try to control that, because it's all I have right now. Everything else is out of my control. As soon as I realize he's done, I take some long slow breathes, trying to calm myself. NO! No no nono no. "No, please." Elliot slips a finger between my dangling legs. He slips into my pussy easily.

"Shhh, girl. You know how this works. Your pain is our pleasure. Your pleasure is also our pleasure. "

One of the watchers pipes up, trying to calm me. "Just relax and enjoy. You're doing just fine." No no no no I don't have much energy, but I try to struggle, at least try to get that finger out of me. Elliot's phone rings again. He answers with his finger still curling inside me. 

"Yeah, Boss?" Quiet as he listens to Marcus. "Right away, sir." He slips the phone in his pocket and pulls out a BlueTooth and puts it on my ear.

Marcus's voice fills my ears. "Be a good girl. Calm down for me."

"Please, I can't take anymore. Please." I can feel my orgasm building. I keep struggling. I'm panting again, calm and control is a distant memory. 

The disembodied voice draws my attention away from my traitorous body. "Let Elliot use you. He's in charge of you today. He's watching over you and protecting you for me. Be good for me." My body goes limp. I'm not sure if it's to please Marcus, or because I've exhausted all my energy. The finger has found my G-spot and is working it mercilessly. Elliot is praising me in one ear; Marcus is calming me in the other. The two observers are thankfully silent as my torture continues. 

My core is starting to clench down on the finger, my body quivering helplessly. "All the way, boss?" 

"Yeah, I want to see her dance." His voice doesn't come from the earpiece, but from somewhere behind me. Elliot's finger drives me to my completion. My body explodes. Hanging from the chains, it tries to curl into a ball, but I don't have the strength anymore. It straightens out and my back arches as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm me. I hang there, twitching, until the world comes back into focus. There is nothing left to give. 

I'm lowered down, but my legs can't support me. Two sets of hands release me, and I'm carried into Marcus's office and laid out on top the large desk. Elliot fixes my dress as best he can. He leans in and kisses my eyes, my nose and my mouth. "Thank you, sweet girl. You were so beautiful today. Thank you." I mumble, still not fully coherent yet. Sleep takes me.




Just Curious Ch. 07



*********

When I wake up, I am sore all over. "What the hell happened to me? I feel like I've been hit by a Mac Truck." I'm still lying on the desk and Marcus has his jacket folded under my head. "You couldn't find somewhere more comfortable?"

I hear laughter and follow it to find Marcus sitting in his chair working on a laptop. "There are several very comfortable beds in this brothel, but I couldn't be sure I wouldn't be tempted to use you again if I saw you lying helpless in one of them."

"Pfft. You didn't seem too hesitant to use me in here earlier." I groan as I try to sit up. 

Marcus offers me some apple juice. "Careful with your tone, I really don't want to punish you again."

"I'm sorry Marcus. I'm a grumpy morning person on a good day."

"You don't think today is a good day?" He helps me sit, but my ass is so sore I hop off the table as soon as I can. His arms wrap around me to keep me from falling.

I look up at him and see the concern in his eyes. "I honestly don't know. My world has shifted on its axis and I couldn't tell up from down right now. I know is how sore I am, how out of control I feel, and somehow, I'm OK with that. And I don't know why. And that scares me."

Marcus just holds me, telling me I'm safe and I'm doing fine. We stay like this for a while until Elliot comes in with a tray of fruit and berries for lunch. I am so hungry. Marcus sits and I lean against the edge of the desk as we eat. There's only one fork, so Marcus ends up feeding me. I do sneak a couple with my fingers whenever there's a visitor distracting him or he turns to answer the phone. He catches me a few times, but I put on my best innocent face, and he just shakes his head.

After lunch, I finally get to use the bathroom. When I'm cleaned up, Marcus and I leave in the SUV, with Elliot following behind us in a beat-up old Jeep. We drive a short distance outside of the city. The buildings are few and far between. We stop in front of a large, well long anyway, one-story building. Elliot parks right next to us, and we walk into the main entrance. 

I instantly smell hair care products. There are three large wooden boards listing services from simple haircuts, perms and manicures to full spa packages, Botox, and laser treatments.

A short blonde woman greets us at the door. "Sir, how good to see you again. And Elliot, you are always welcome here." There's some customary small talk before we're led to a back room. It has very soothing décor, soft light woods, beiges, and a few pale colors for accents. In the center of the room is a sturdy wooden massage table with beige padding and covered in a large fluffy white towel. 

I'm just about to touch the table top when I'm startled out of my curiosity. "Strip." In turn, I look at Marcus, then Elliot, then the blonde woman, Anna. Marcus snaps his fingers and I jump. I know he's mad because I hesitated. With my face turning as red as my ass, I slip the dress off and let it fall to the floor. I keep my eyes down. I can't look at the other two, and I don't want to see disappointment on Marcus's face. 

Anna speaks next; "I know it will be uncomfortable, but would you hop up on the table and lay on your back?" Marcus doesn't give me a chance to balk, he nudges me toward to the table and I climb on and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

I am ignored as they discuss what they want done to me today. A facial, a Brazilian wax, a mani/pedi, and a hot stone massage are agreed upon first. Anna asks Marcus if he wants to keep the landing strip which starts a heated discussion between the three of them. He needs more time to think about it. I don't like lying there being ignored, so I mention that they could always asks the woman who actually has the landing strip. Anna and Marcus look at me like I just grew an extra head. Elliot chuckles and places his hand over my mouth. WTF! 

The discussion continues without me. Marcus nixes the chemical peel idea. Apparently those take up to two weeks to work, and he only has me for a few days. Something called a 'salt glow' is added. Marcus wanted to add hydrotherapy, but Elliot doesn't think we have enough time for that. 

With everything settled, Marcus helps me off the table and into a short black and purple wrap. "I have to go for a few hours. Elliot will stay here with you. You listen to him and do what he says, understand?" I nod my head yes. "Be a good girl for me."

As he's turning to leave, Anna stops him. "Sir, have you decided about the waxing?"

Marcus looks me over one last time. "Take it all off." Decision made. He kisses the top of my head and leaves.

I stand there, not quite sure what to do. Anna discusses the order of treatments with Elliot. We'll start with the easy things; facial, mani, and pedi. Then the wax, and finish up with the relaxing salt thing and massage.

We head out into a large room full of windows with about two dozen stations. First is the manicure, I surprised that Elliot sits in the station next to mine. We chat as we both get our hands scrubbed and our nails beautified. I know he won't get a color on his nails, but I tease him anyway by suggesting every color I can think of. 

Next is the facial. Elliot flirts with the girl doing my facial. There's some heat, and the scrubbie device, and oils and everything wonderful. So relaxing.

I have just started the pedicure when a woman sits next to me. We start chatting as our feet soak in the hot water. Elliot is on the phone, so I keep talking with her. She won a gift card in a raffle, so this is her first 'spa day'. We've gotten our feet scrubbed, and our calves massaged. 

As we're deciding on colors for our nails, Elliot walks over to us, he doesn't look happy. "What have you two been talking about?" I glance at the woman beside me. Elliot physically turns my head back toward him. "Answer me."

"Ummm. We talked about this spa, and different treatments. She won a gift card for here. She's from Phoenix. Umm. I think that's all, sir." His hand is still keeping me focused on him.

"Don't speak to her again. Don't listen to her if she speaks to you. Time to get up, they can color your nails later." He starts pulling me out of the chair, not gently, but he doesn't hurt me either. Patty, that's the woman I've been talking with, starts yelling at Elliot to let me go. 

Elliot turns on the woman, "You have no say in this, Detective." 

Detective? I try to look at her one more time, trying to figure out what going on. Why is a cop talking with me? Elliot is urging me into a different room. Patty, the detective, ignores Elliot and starts talking to me. In front of the whole room, she starts saying things that terrify me. "You don't have to stay with them." "I can protect you." "I promise you I'll get you home safe." Elliot growls at Anna to get rid of that bitch, then ushers me into another room and slams the door.

Protection? Safety? Home? What the hell did I get myself into? I lean against the wall and put my hands on my knees. I'm shaking like a leaf. Why would Jared want me to come here?

Elliot puts his hand on my shoulder. I cringe at the contact and throw his hand off me. "Who the hell are you? Why are the cops here? Why are they worried about my safety?"

"Calm down."

"Calm down! Calm down? The cops just happen to show up during my pedicure and assume I'm in danger and need rescuing. I will not calm down. Who are you?"

Anna barges in, a chipper tone in her voice. "She's not happy, but she's gone. Mondays usually aren't this exciting. How is everyone in here?" She takes one look at me and stops. "Baby, what's wrong?" She comes over and wraps her arms around me. "Don't you dare listen to that woman! Marcus and Elliot aren't the most upstanding citizens in the world, but they would never hurt you."

Elliot rolls his eyes. "Oh, jee thanks, Anna." Anna shushes him. 

"Look at me. Come on, just look at me. Good girl. OK, I know we don't know each other, but I've known Marcus and Elliot for years and they've never hurt one of their girls. I don't know your exact situation, but I've seen your bright red ass, and I have a pretty good idea of the basics. Outsiders, like that cop lady, don't understand that lifestyle. They deal with horrors like rapes, murders, domestic abuse and slave labor every day. It's hard for them to grasp that this is consensual. Oh, wait!" She pulls out her phone and calls someone. I look at Elliot and he just shrugs his shoulders, he doesn't know what she's doing either. 

"Are you done prepping your room?" She waits. "Yeah, we kicked her out. Can you come to waxing room #3?" Again she listens. "OK, thanks so much." She hangs up and slips the phone in her apron.

In a motherly move, Anna takes my face in her hands. "You don't listen to that woman. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Has Marcus done anything really serious to hurt you? He wouldn't let anything happen to you. Just take a few calming deep breathes and think about everything. Use your brain, it the strongest weapon you will ever possess."

There's a knock on the door. Anna tells them to come in and a little, slightly chubby brunette enters. "I heard we had some excitement, and I missed it. I always miss the good stuff. How's she doing?" 

"Casey, be good. She's scared. She probably thinks she's in way over her head."

"Marcus is a good guy. Don't get me wrong; I would never want him angry at me, but he would never seriously hurt you." Casey and Anna are surrounding me with good vibes.

"Casey is actually going to be doing your hot stone massage later on, but I asked her here now because Marcus has hurt her before. I was hoping she'd be willing to show you. Maybe it will help you better understand what that detective lady was worried about. And also why you shouldn't worry." She looks conspiratorially at Casey. Casey just brightens up and claps her hands. Wait! What? I'm confused.

In unison, they both turn and glare at Elliot. Anna tries to shoo him out of the room. Elliot won't budge. "Not gonna happen. Just get on with it; we have a schedule we have to keep."

Casey gives him a pout, but I can tell it's just for show. "Wait. Wait. Wait. You say Marcus is a good guy, but then you tell me he hurt you. Why are you so happy about it?"

Casey starts taking off her apron and her pants as she starts talking. "Ohh I love it. If I could run around without pants on every day, I would. So, anyway, for my 5th wedding anniversary, my master and I wanted to do something really special. We decided on this." She shows me several doves on the inside of her right thigh. At first I think they're tattoos, but the edges look funny.

She runs her hands over them longingly. "My master calls me 'little dove', so we thought this would be appropriate. One dove for every year of our marriage. They're branded! Do you like them?"

Branded? Like burnt in with hot metal? Do they do that to people? The designs are thin outlines of doves in flight going up the inside of her thigh. "Did it hurt?"

"Oh my god, yes! Each one was branded individually. Marcus strapped me down so tight I couldn't move an inch. He even put a catheter in, in case my bladder gave out, which it did! That would have caused an infection for sure."

"Marcus did this to you? And you let him?" 

She laughs. "We didn't just let him; we had to pay him a small fortune to do it. He's one of the best at scarring. People come from all over to wear his marks. He custom made the doves for us." She runs her hand over the doves again. "I love him so much; I wish everyone could see these, but most people don't understand." It takes me a second to realize she's talking about her husband, not Marcus.

She seems sad, but I can see the love she has her husband. I can understand the shock most people, including me, would have to someone being branded. Casey showed me that this all about perspective, what you think could be completely different from what everyone else thinks. But that doesn't mean it's wrong. She still looks sad so I hug her. "It's beautiful. You should be honored to wear those doves."

Her frown turns into this huge, glowing infectious smile. "My master got one too. Only one, though. I was so shocked he'd let himself get branded. It was the best anniversary present ever. I love him so much."

Anna separates us once she sees that we've bonded. "Go on, now. Shoo. Get back to work. We have waxing to do." Casey giggles as she gets dressed and leaves the room. "I'll see you later for the massage. That you'll love, I promise."

I've had my eyebrows waxed, but I've never done anything more than that. Now I know why, it's as excruciating as I expected it to be. When Anna's done, every stray and unwanted hair has been ripped out of my body. Elliot had to hold my hands down for the wax on my bikini area and my ass. Apparently having your ass paddled the day before a waxing is a very, very bad idea. Not that I had much say in it, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Anna uses tweezers to get any sneaky hairs, then applies a lotion to my skin. Elliot helps me off the table and puts the short wrap on me. Anna escorts us to another room, Elliot walks behind her and I waddle next to him. 

The 'salt glow' is basically a salt scrub. Salt soaking in oil with lime and rosemary are rubbed all over and the coarseness exfoliates the skin. The smell is refreshing, and the scrubbing feels pretty good, except on my ass and thighs. When I'm turned onto my back, the woman who was doing my pedicure comes in to finish coloring my nails as the technician scrubs down my front. I'm let to sit for a while, to let the nails dry and to let the oil soak in. Then I'm rinsed off with lukewarm water, dressed in the wrap, and led to yet another room.

I'm almost afraid to enter. I can't take much more of this 'pampering'. When the door opens and I see Casey and breathe a small sigh of relief. Elliot turns to check on me and Casey giggles again. "How was the waxing?" I can only groan in response to her question. Elliot on the other hand, has no problem speaking. "She was a whiny, squirmy little one; I even had to hold her down." I give him a little slap on his chest. 

The massage was as relaxing as promised. She uses long slow strokes, and palm-sized hot black river rocks are placed along my spine. Casey works my arms and legs, then my back. I feel like Jell-o. This is so relaxing. I hear the door open. Casey's cheery voice brings me out of my rumination. "Good afternoon, sir. Perfect timing, we're almost done here." 

As Casey finishes my massage, I hear Marcus and Elliot have a private chat in the corner. When they're finished, Marcus comes over and whispers something to Casey. All I hear is her saying; "Yes, sir."

The next thing I know, Casey is slipping her hand between my legs. I try to lift myself up, but Marcus has his hand on my neck, holding me down. I try to roll over, but Marcus tells me to stay still. I feel her fingers sliding between my sensitive folds, gently massaging them up and down. I don't move until she presses a finger into my pussy. I twist and reach behind me, trying to push her away. Marcus easily catches my hand. Casey is moving her finger back and forth inside me. Marcus leans down and looks into my face. He must have seen the contempt in my face. "Thank you, Casey. That'll be all for today." She immediately pulls her fingers away.

"Yes, sir. Have a great day." I turn to watch her leave. I see Elliot grab her hand and suck her fingers clean. His eyes find mine as Casey giggles and calls him a dirty, dirty man. He gives her a quick kiss and she leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

I'm not sure how to feel about Marcus being here. He helps me stand. I stare at the floor, not sure I can look at him yet. He runs his hand over me, feeling every inch. Of its own accord, my body presses into his palm. He ends the inspection by slipping his finger inside my core. "You didn't like Casey touching you, why not?"

Crap, question time already. Why didn't I like it? "It felt gross. I don't think I have a better answer. I just didn't like it." 

He's still prodding for a better answer. "A man's finger is similar to a woman's finger. Why do you enjoy my finger, or even Elliot's, but not Casey's?"

I don't have any better answer. "But she is a woman. I just didn't enjoy it. I didn't want her touching me. I don't have another answer. I just didn't." 

Marcus wraps one arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest. He holds me there as Elliot tells him the high and low points of my spa day. They talk about the detective. Elliot sent her picture to someone who told him she was a detective. Elliot said I was very good, because when he told me not to talk to her and then pulled me away from her, I did as he said. I get a little squeeze from Marcus for that.

They talk about my meltdown afterwards, and how Anna and Casey calmed me down. They discuss how painful the waxing was for me. And then they go over every treatment I received that day. They discuss what Elliot is responsible for the next few days; it sounds like we're going back to the office on Thursday. Then they say their goodbyes, Elliot kisses my forehead and praises me.

Before we leave, Marcus has me stand near the entrance while he pays Anna. I'm not sure how much today set him back, I can only imagine. On the way home, we stop at a small store and he has me wait in the car while he goes in. He comes out a few minutes later with dinner. It's time to go home. 

The dark warning from Patty is still swirling in my brain, only now I'm alone with this man. He hasn't really hurt me. Yet. But I don't know anything about him. We drive in silence back to his condo. Silence in the garage and the elevator. Silence in the hall, all the way till I'm standing in the kitchen.

He keeps his distance, giving me the space I need right now. His sits in his chair, the only chair, and just watches me for a while. "I know the detective upset you this afternoon. I give you my word I won't hurt you. You took a big leap of faith when you came here in the first place, I would appreciate it if you did it again, and just let yourself trust that I won't hurt you."

I look him in the eye. "Are you a criminal?"

He examines my face before answering. "Yes. The brothels are legal though, I wouldn't risk you by getting you mixed up in something illegal."

"But you ARE a criminal! What do you do?" 

"I work for several casinos, and I do other stuff on the side. Let's just say I'm a well-rounded individual." I'm about to demand more, but he puts his hand up and shakes his head. I know I won't get any more out of him.

"You hurt people?" That came out wrong. "I mean people pay you to hurt them?" I remember Casey's doves, branded into her flesh. She seemed so proud of them.

"Yes. People in our lifestyle come to me to be scarred. They pay me to mark them. They want to be hurt. I don't pick random people off the street and terrorize them. It's not like that."

I nod. Weird, but that makes sense. "Casey loves her doves."

He agrees. "She does. She sent me pictures when they were fully healed." He seems to sense that the worst is over. "Come here."

I walk over to him and he places his hands on the back of my thighs, under my dress, and rests his forehead against my stomach. It's a very intimate gesture. 

I have more questions, and if he seems willing to answer, I have to ask them. "At the brothel this morning, after the incident with the drunk..." Marcus growls something that sounds like 'asshole'. "You said you wanted to hurt me. Is this what you meant?"  

He looks up at me, and he has the audacity to look guilty. He runs his hands up my ass. "Your skin is flawless. You had this well-fucked glow and a perfect shade of blush over your entire body. I could do something exquisite on a canvas like that."




Just Curious Ch. 08



It took longer than normal to post last week, I'm not sure why. Hopefully this week will be quicker. 

Enjoy.

*****

Chapter 8 (Tuesday)

Something is catching my attention, pulling me out of slumber. I recognize that I'm lying on my stomach; I must have rolled over sometime during the night. I hate sleeping on my stomach. I try to roll over, but I can't get my arms down. It takes another half second to remember my wrists are cuffed to the headboard. Someone is working on the cuffs. It must be Marcus. 

My wrists are finally released. My eyes slowly open as I start to shift position. It's only been a few seconds since I was sleeping soundly. I feel happy. The warm comfy blanket is stripped off me. Firm hands are on my shoulders and waist. Suddenly I'm pulled off the bed and dropped on the floor. What the fuck! I try to move, but Marcus grabs my hair and forces me to stay down. "Don't even fucking think about it."

The deep, powerful, angry voice stops me. I hold my breath and wait. I have no clue what's going on. He pulls my hair so I'm looking up at him. He looks livid. "Kneel."

I twist so I can get into position, not daring to challenge him until I figure out what's wrong. I'm kneeling; legs spread wide, staring up at him with pleading eyes, hair still caught in Marcus's hand. We stay like this in total silence for about a minute, but it seems like an eternity to me. "If you fucking move, we are done. Do you understand? Done!" He pushes my head forward before releasing me, then storms out of the room. 

I sit there, scared to move a muscle. What happened? Is this a test? It has to be a test, right. I was just sleeping; I can't get him that angry by just sleeping. I sit and wait. Clinging to the hope that this is a test, because I have no idea what else it could be.

*********

He's walking back from his morning workout. He checked on the girl before he went down and she was sleeping soundly. He spins the baby monitor in his hand, thinking about all the possibilities for today. It's going to be a good day.

He puts his gear away and uses the bathroom. Then he heads to his girls room. First things first: time to see if she'll accept kneeling for breakfast. He gets to the door and just looks in, in case she's awake. She's moving on the bed. He silently steps into the room to get a better look. She's on her belly. One leg is straight, but the other is bent, with the knee almost up at waist level. Her hips are slowly moving up and down under the blankets. It takes another second for a huge smile to form. She's fucking the bed, in her sleep. Horny little thing, ain't she. 

He walks closer to the bed, to get a better view. He wonders if he can punish her for this. By the lax facial expression, she is still asleep. Can't punish someone for their dreams, can he? He could, if he wanted to, but does he want to?

He watches her, enjoying the slow even thrusts of her hips. He wonders if he can get the blanket off her without her waking up. He doesn't think so, so he'll just enjoy the show from here. He's just about to go get a chair from the corner, when everything changes. Pleasure turns to anger. Her quirkiness becomes a betrayal. A slap in the face.

"mmmm please. Please fuck me. Please Dustin. Please use me. I'm yours." Dustin? She's fucking Dustin! In my bed. In my condo. Dustin? No fucking way that is going to happen...

He releases her wrist restraints. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins. He rips the blanket off her naked body. Supposed to be naked. Fucking panties. Never again. He grabs her upper body and hips and drags her out of bed. He guides her to the floor. She's awake now, and trying to right herself. He grabs her by the hair to control her. "Don't even fucking think about it." She stops moving. He recognizes his anger. He pulls her so he can look at her terrified face. He knows he needs to get control of himself.

"Kneel." He watches, counting backward from ten, as she struggles into position. How do you control some ones dreams? Maybe he should just send her home before something bad happens. He watches her for a while, contemplating the possibilities. He needs to get some distance to think about this. "If you fucking move, we are done. Do you understand? Done!" He rips his hand out of her hair, as he storms out of the room.

Shower. He needs a shower. Time to think. Time to calm down. What is the best way to fix this? He admits he might have over-reacted. Either way, it's his responsibility to fix this. God, how long of a shower is this going to take?

*********

I wait. Trying not to be afraid. Green light. Yellow light. Red light. I wait.

I sense him more than see him or hear him. I know he's by the door. I know he's watching me. I stay as still as can be. He's walking into the room; I can hear his feet shuffling on the carpet. 

"Don't be afraid, little girl. You are not in any trouble. I need you to know you are safe here. Will you let me touch you now?" Touch me! He wants to touch me? It's a test. It has to be. I nod my head yes, but I still don't look up at him.

Gentle hands are on my shoulders, urging me to stand. "Time for breakfast." The hands start to guide me out the bedroom.

"Please. May I use the bathroom first? Please." I'm pressing my legs together to keep myself from having an accident. "Please."

"Of course. Go, but keep the door open." I waddle quickly to the bathroom and sit down. I see Marcus standing near the other doorway. Any other time, I wouldn't be able to go, but the urgency is almost painful. When I'm done, I wash my hands and face, then brush my hair and teeth. I go back out into the bedroom. I stop about three feet away from Marcus, not willing to get within his reach just yet. He glares at me and then his eyes drop to my waist and he sneers. I quickly pull the panties off and toss them aside.

"Come here, girl." Yeah, I didn't think he'd fall for that, but it was still worth the try, in my opinion.

I walk the rest of the way to his side. He pulls me into an embrace and just holds me. His face resting on my head. "I'm not angry with you. In fact I was in a good mood when I came into the room earlier."

Silence goes on for a while before I work up the courage to speak. "Then why were you mad at me?"

I feel his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. "When I entered the room to wake you up, you were humping the bed."

"I was not!" No way.

"Are you calling me a liar?" His voice doesn't sound mad, but after this morning, I don't want to push my luck.

"No. I'm sorry, Marcus."

"So then you don't think I know when a woman is fucking an inanimate object?" I think he might be teasing me, but I can't be sure. Better safe than sorry.

"I didn't mean to offend you, or question you, but I can't picture myself doing that."

"Ohhh, it gets worse. I watched you for a while; enjoying the show you were putting on for me." Now is the first time I look him in the eyes since he forced me to the floor. How long was he in here? Was I really doing that?

"But the show wasn't for me, was it, girl? Mine wasn't the name dancing across your luscious lips. I wasn't the man in your wet dream. Was I?" My eyes get wide. The shadow man. My dreams have been about one and only one thing lately, Dustin. I remember the nightmares, or at least bits and pieces of them. Could I be having sex dreams also? "Answer me."

Shivering, my voice wavers. "Dustin. All my nightmares are about Dustin."

He pulls my eyes back to his. "Do you know how much it hurt to have you say that name? It was almost a physical pain hearing you beg him. You beg him, but not me! Many dark thoughts have crossed my mind about you. Maybe if I beat you senseless you'll beg me, like you did him. Maybe you truly are lost, and I should just ship you back home and forget about you all together. Maybe I should just toss you in the playroom and lock you in there for a few years. I would own you then, and I would force your dreams to be about me, and only me."

I try to pull away, but he holds me tight. The command in his voice is unmistakable. "Tell me your dreams. All of them. Right now." Resting my head against his chest, looking out the door into the hallway, I start talking. My voice emotionless and flat. I tell him about my nightmares. The bottomless pit dream I had when I was here. The ocean dream with sharks swimming under the surface, their rough skin sliding against mine as I struggle to stay afloat. The tornado, where I'm spinning and out of control, a lifeline always just out of my reach. The burning building I can't find my way out of; my lungs burning, my eyes watering. Space, where no matter how much I struggle to get to a planet, I can't do anything other than spin in circles, cold and scared. Lost. In all of them I'm lost. Helpless. And Dustin is always there. Sometimes as a threat, sometimes as my only hope. Always there. Always watching. Always.

"Shhh, girl. You're safe here. I need you to let that all go. You can't keep holding onto the fear. Let yourself focus on now. You can't go forward if you're using all your energy by dragging the past along with you. You have to let it go."

"I can't. I don't know how. Please, just make it all stop. Please."

"You can. I know you can. I know how strong you are. You have to try."

"I don't know how." We haven't even had breakfast yet, and I'm exhausted already.

"Stop fighting. Embrace what you are. And you will have nothing to fear anymore. Stop fighting, girl. Just stop." He continues to hold me, letting me draw strength for his strong, even heartbeat. There's no more talking. Just holding. 

He breaks the contact between us, and takes my hand, leading me quietly to the kitchen. I stand in the corner watching him prepare the food we're having for breakfast. A spinach and cheese omelet, mixed berries, and leftovers from last night. I am still awed by his massive size and the grace with which he moves. So easy. So confident. He sets the table and motions me over. I walk over and stand next to him. I know what's coming next, but it still irks me when he says it. "Kneel." Why does this bother me so much? He's right, I'm not sure I even know why I struggle with this.

"Do I have to?" Please, this day has to get better at some point. It just has to.

"Yes, you do. And if you ever question it again, you will still kneel, but I won't allow you to eat." He glances back at the cuffs and chains on the countertop, then he watches me until I sink down to my knees on the dog bed. I stare at the floor as I hear him start eating. I sit there for a while until he nudges my head. I look up and he's offering me some chicken in his fingers. I take a deep breath and swallow my pride before I can lean forward and carefully take the meat from his fingers with my mouth. It might have been delicious, but all I remember is that I thought it was hard to chew. 

Breakfast continues in silence, Marcus feeding me from his fingers while I contemplate if this is really what I want to do. We finish breakfast, and Marcus cleans up the kitchen. He helps me off the floor and we walk to his bedroom. He chains me in his shower, then strips and climbs in with me. Starting at the highest point, my hands, he gently and thoroughly washes every inch of me. My body betrays my emotional state, and starts reacting to the pleasure of skilled hands caressing my flesh. The insecurity and drama from this morning seem to swirl away down the drain with the water. I just let myself be. 

He unclips the chains and helps me out of the shower, dries us both off, and leads me to the bed. I wait there as he chooses a dress for me. He decides on an emerald green dress that looks almost like a Greek toga style. It's a pencil skirt covering one shoulder with a wide golden band across the waist and over the shoulder. As he bunches the skirt up, I raise my hands over my head and he slips the dress on me. He walks around me once to look me over. Then he takes my hand and leads me out of the condo, down to the SUV, and into the Vegas early morning sunshine. All without either of us saying a word.

We head toward Boulder City, then we drive past it. More desert flies past before he turns down a long, winding, dusty driveway. He drives past a large one story home and finally stops in front of an even larger barn. Before we get out of the SUV, he turns to me. "Girl, look at me. This morning is in the past. Let it go. You'll need to let it go in order to trust me, and today, you will need to trust me. Focus on moving forward. Focus on me. Let me handle everything else. OK." 

I nod yes, and he hops out with his camera bag and helps me down. We walk hand-in-hand into the barn. The smell of horses is overwhelming at first. A man with Marcus's height, bulk, dark hair and skin color walks up to us. He looks a little older, more weather worn. The two men eye each other. The older man spits on the floor near our feet. "I see the pansy-assed city boy has returned. Slummin' it today?"

"Cranky old geezer. Ain't you dead yet?" Marcus steps forward to engage the other man, I step back to avoid the body parts I expect will be flying around shortly. Both men embrace then the laughing and back patting starts. In unison, they both turn to look at me, smiling. "Dominic, I'd like to introduce you to a very special lady." Dominic, as it turns out, is Marcus's older brother. Apparently there is some difference of opinion as to exactly how much older. I get a little glimpse into the private life of this imposing man. I get see someone, Dominic, who doesn't call him 'sir' and defer to him automatically. I get to see him as a person, not a man controlling every aspect of my life. 

Dominic eyes me up and down. "That's not exactly trail appropriate clothing, Marcus. At least give her some jeans to put on."

"What? She's beautiful in that dress. Look at that emerald color on her. It's perfect. Besides, we're going down into the canyon. The dress won't be a problem." 

"You're an ass, Marc." Marcus put his arm around my side and pulls me closer to him, kissing the top of my head. He's grinning as his brother continues. "Otis hasn't been out for a few weeks, so I've saddled him for you and the super sweet Denver for the little lady here." He gives a small nod of his head to me, and I hear Marcus groaning. "God, why do you keep that good-for-nothing animal?"

"To torture you, dear brother." Dominic laughs again, as we walk further into the barn. Two horses are saddled and standing near the back. One has a leather lead strapped to a stall door; the other has two chains, one on each side of the bridle, connected to support beams on either side. 

Marcus leaves my side and walks up to the chained horse. The horse surges forward toward him, but the chains stop him. Marcus doesn't flinch. The horse is hopping up and down, large hooves pounding the ground. Dominic leans over whispering to me. "The beast enjoys biting, kicking and dropping riders on their asses. No one rides him, but the only other option is to put it down, which I'm not willing to do to an otherwise healthy animal. A few years ago, right after I got the beast, Otis tried to bite Marcus. Marcus had his hand up, trying to get close enough to touch the nose. Otis lunged and tried to bite. Normal people would have pulled their hand back, right? Not Marc. He reached into the horse's mouth and grabbed his tongue. Grabbed it and held on. Otis didn't know what to do. When Otis tried to bite, Marc twisted his tongue. When Otis tried to get the hand out of his mouth, Marc just held on. Blood was dripping down his arm, but he never flinched. After like ten minutes, Otis is just standing there, tongue hanging out, Marc still holding on to it, whispering in his ear. Marc finally let's go, and Otis just stands there. When Marc is ready, he walks along side him and hops on the beast bareback. Otis didn't look none too happy, but he never once tried to buck him off. I'll give him this: My little brother does have a pair of balls on him, don't he?" I was about to agree and say delicious, but then I thought that might be slightly inappropriate so I just nodded.

Marcus has Otis unchained, as Dominic puts a soft blanket over my saddle, and helps me up onto Denver. The dress rides up high on my thigh. No amount of tugging or readjustment is going to fix this. Dominic yells at Marcus again about the dress. Marcus just says that it won't be a problem for long. I have a feeling I know where that is going. The brother's talk about the route we're taking, then Marcus hoists himself up onto Otis. I see the camera bag hanging off the saddle.

We ride side by side off the ranch; the morning sunlight is just starting to heat up. "Stop tugging on the dress. You look fine."

"I look like I'm not wearing any panties. Do you see your brother often?"

"Yeah, we talk on the phone every few days. We have lunch together about every week. I don't get out here as often as I like, though. I don't want the cops to start harassing him."

"Is he a criminal also?"

I get a look from Marcus I can't read. "Nope, he's just an old geezer of a rancher."

"He told me about your first meeting with Otis. Shame on you for assaulting a poor animal like that."

"Are you scolding me, young lady? And besides, this isn't a 'poor animal', this is a spawn from hell."

"I am scolding you, you pansy-assed city boy. I haven't figured out how many spankings you deserve though." There was a chance he could be mad, but he liked my sassiness before. His bark of laughter tells me he liked it this time also. He pulls closer to me, his hand reaching for my hair, when Otis decides to try to take a chomp out of Denver. My horse wisely dances out of range, taking me with him. I laugh as Marcus tries to rein in his horse again. I raise my arms and wave them around in the air. "Curses! Foiled again." 

"You are such a brat! Just wait till I get you across my lap." He's got Otis back in line again.

"Promises. Promises." I get another look from him, but this time there's a twinkle of mischief behind them. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes as we come up along the Grand Canyon. You'd think there would be some warning, or something to indicate we're close to one of the great natural wonders of the world, but there's not. We're just riding in the flat desert, and then, there it is. We follow along it, with Marcus taking a few pictures here and there, until we get to a path leading down into the canyon itself. 

We hop off the horses before descending into the canyon. "I'm going to have you and Denver go first. He's been on this trail many times, so he knows the way. Just go slow and keep your balance. And one more thing: Hand me your dress."

I knew this was coming, so I've prepared for it. I slip it over my head and place it in his outstretched hand. He raises an eyebrow and smiles. "Good girl. Here, put this on." He hands me a tube of sunscreen and watches as I smear it all over. He helps me cover my back. Then he takes a few pictures of me standing above the canyon with Denver. "Let's go." 

The descent is breathtaking. Sometimes the path is above the water, sometimes following along besides the river, and sometimes we even go through the water. Every once in a while I hear the click-click of the camera. Sometimes I ignore it; sometimes I pose for him. 

Twice during the trip he has me put the dress back on. We don't see anyone, but I hear the sound of an engine coming from everywhere at once. Marcus says the canyon walls echo sounds, so they could be a mile away or right above us. 

We follow the path back up to the top of the canyon. There's a little oasis of Joshua Trees. I look back to Marcus to see if we're stopping here. He nods and I hop off Denver and go check out the Joshua Trees. So cool! Marcus is hitching Denver and Otis to two separate trees on the outside of the grove. He comes back with three loops of rope. He quietly and efficiently wraps the ropes around the trunk of one tree and ties the ends together. He tosses the three loops closer to the edge of the cliff. I'm watching him, but I have no idea what that's for. More pictures are taken. Marcus no longer seems easy-going like he did earlier. He's much more focused now. Something's up.




Just Curious Ch. 08



"Come here, girl." Yup, something's definitely up. I walk over to him. "Watch me." He goes over to the very edge of the canyon. He picks up the three individually tied ropes and wraps them around his wrist and forearm. My eyes bulge and I'm frozen in place and he leans over the canyon. The only thing keeping him from falling is the rope wrapped around his arm. My heart stops as he lifts one leg and starts screaming. He rights himself, and I see a huge childlike grin on his face. "Me and Dom used to see who could do this the longest, or shout the loudest. I bet that scream echoed for miles." He looks at me for a long second and calls me over to him. My feet move forward, but my mind wants to run. He runs his fingers through my messy, wind-blown hair. "I will have your trust. Do you understand me? You do as I say, when I say."

"Yes Marcus." I have to speak over the wind coming over the edge of the cliff.

Marcus turns me so my back is to his front, his large hand resting over my stomach. I can feel myself shaking. "You keep both feet planted. You keep your back and legs completely straight. Do you understand?" 

Oh god. Can I do this? "Yes Marcus. I understand." Feet planted. Back straight. Legs straight. Oh god. Marcus is whispering into my ear. "You are mine. I won't let anything happen to you. You do as I say. When I say. In a way you think will please me the most. You are mine. You will give yourself to me completely. I will have you. Lean forward. Now."

I'm frozen, looking down into the deep canyon, water whirling down below. I feel my body leaning forward and I hold my breath, eye's shut tight. His hand on my stomach is all that is keeping me safe. Farther and farther I lean into that one point of contact. I keep repeating the mantra in my mind: Feet planted. Back straight. Legs straight. Over and over as I get farther out over the canyon. "Open your eyes." 

The drop makes my head spin. I am so far up. The colors and swirls of the canyon lost to me. Just the drop exists. "Please. Marcus, please."

"Hold your pose. You are mine. You will trust me. Now scream. Scream loudly." That I can do. I scream. I let out all the panic; all the fear, all the uncertainty. A second scream comes out unbidden; powerful, forceful. The third scream is pure rage. I feel Marcus pull me back up and away from the edge. 

He slaps me, hard, right across the face. I just stare up at him, shocked. He slaps me again. "Why do you fight me?" Again, another slap, this one across my left tit. "Why?' He pushes me farther back from the edge. "Answer me." He's stalking toward me. "Answer me! Why?" 

"I don't know!" I'm still shouting, feeling the power surge deep in my belly. He slaps me again. The wind is cooling the tears running down my face. "Stop it."

He pushes again. "No. Not until you answer me. No one will hear you scream out here. You will answer me." Slap Slap Slap

I push him, but he doesn't budge. "I don't know."

"Why? Answer me." He grabs a nipple and viciously pinches it. I try to pry his fingers off.

"Stop it. Stop it."

"Answer me. Why do you fight me?"

"I don't know! I don't know!" He pushes me to the ground.

"You do know. You do! Why do you fight me? Why?" He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. "Answer me."

I feel the dam break. The invisible barrier deep inside me just shatters. Everything I've been trying to bury explodes to the surface. Tears are cascading down my face as I turn my rage on Marcus. I push him, but he doesn't budge. I punch him, but it doesn't seem to faze him. That just angers me more."He hurt me! He hurt me!" I keep hitting him, and he lets me. The only time he moves is when I claw my fingernails into his shoulder, and he pries them off. Holding both my hands in his.

"I know he hurt you. Why do you fight me?" He slaps me again.

I drop to my knees; Marcus follows me down to the ground. "Answer me."

"He hurt me."

"I know." He wraps his arms around me.

"I let him. I let him hurt me."

"I know."

It hurts to breath. It hurts to think. "What kind of person lets someone beat them? He could have killed me, and I would have let him. What's wrong with me? Why didn't I fight? He beat me like a dog, and I just let him. What's wrong with me?" My world is collapsing around me

"Shhh little girl. There's nothing wrong with you. You did nothing wrong. It's not your fault. You were the victim, whether you fought back or not, you were the victim. He took advantage of your inexperience. He took advantage or your nature. You did nothing wrong. What happened was not your fault."

He pulls my face up until I'm looking at him. "You are extraordinary. You are valuable. You should be cherished. What happened is not your fault. There is nothing wrong with you. You were victimized and assaulted. You did nothing wrong. It wasn't your fault." 

I just start crying again, and he lets me. He pulls me off the hard ground and into his lap. I wrap my arms and legs around him. Taking strength from the solidness I feel holding me. Comforting me. He just lets me cry. Lets me get all the pain and confusion and disgust out of my system. He starts whispering in my ear. Telling me I'm a good girl, and it's not my fault. 

He holds me until my crying turns into a few sporadic hiccups. He pulls back and wipes my face off with his sleeve. He slides me off his lap so I'm kneeing on the ground. He tells me to stay put as he stands up. The next thing I hear is the camera clicking. I look up and watch has he circles around me, taking picture of me nude and emotionally broken on the ground. 

He offers me his hand. "Come on. Up you go. Let's get you cleaned up and head back to the ranch." I let him help me to my feet and onto Denver. I watch passively as he unties the ropes and puts them on his saddle and mount up. His camera is hanging off his shoulder. It's the first time he didn't put it away. He leads us down into the canyon from the path we were just on until we come to a wide calm section of the river.

He hops off Otis and ties his rein to a scraggly bush. His camera is placed gently on an outcropping well above the water. Then he leads Denver into the shallow water. Denver is already taking a drink as Marcus helps me slide off the saddle. The water is shockingly cold on my sandaled feet, causing me to gasp involuntarily. "Kneel." I don't want to go any farther into the water, but I drop down into the proper position. The freezing water rising up to mid-thigh.

He leans over and kisses my tear stained face. Then he proceeds to give me the coldest shower I have ever endured. He cups water in his hand and rinses off my face, then slowly working his way down, he rinses all the dust and sweat off the rest of my body. He then walks back to his camera.

He takes a few pictures of me kneeling in the water. He has me stand and takes more with Denver as the backdrop. He has me cup my hands and fill them with water. Lifting them over my head, he takes pictures of the water dripping down on me. We do this several times. He takes pictures of me interacting with Denver. Scratching his ears, resting my head against his neck, letting him drink from my cupped hands.

Marcus comes back and guides Denver and me out of the water. Denver is tied to a different scraggly bush as I'm laid out on a large warm rock. Marcus lets me rest while he takes Otis for a drink. I close my eyes and soak up the warm heat from the sun, letting the tension flow away with the river. I hear some swearing and a few growled threats. I laugh as I imagine Otis trying to bite him again. 

Soon he comes back and sits down next to me. His back against the rock I'm laying on. He rests the back of his head on my stomach as we soak up the sun. We sit like this in silence, with my fingers running through his hair. 

I must have fallen asleep. Marcus is shifting so he's facing me. I open my eyes to see him looking down at me."You are absolutely beautiful. Any man would be honored to have you. You deserve to be cherished, pampered, and made to submit. Thank you for telling me your fears. Thank you for opening up to me. I will never hurt you. I will never break your trust."

Emotionally, I'm exhausted, but something is different. It feels like the burden I've been carrying is gone. The best word I can come up with is relaxed. All those weeks trying to hold everything inside; trying to be what I considered strong, was just pulling me down deeper. Drowning me. While Marcus's tactics would never be considered traditional, they are effective. 

"Say something, babygirl. Tell me what you're thinking." He's caressing my face.

A small smile forms on my face. "I thought you could read my mind."

"No, not your mind, just your face and body language. I also have past experience to give me an educated guess in most cases. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm just relaxing on a rock. I didn't realize how exhausting it was carrying all that around with me." We sit in silence for a moment or two. "You hit me."

"Yeah, I needed to get you angry so you'd lower you shields." He kisses the side of my breast. In a chipper, optimistic voice he adds; "It worked, right?"

"Yeah. It worked." I run my fingers through his hair again. It's so soft. "I'll have to decide how many spankings to add to your punishment from being so mean to poor old Otis over there." 

His eyes get wide and his mouth opens, then he just shakes his head and laughs. "Sassy girl." He runs his thumb over my budding nipple. He spends a few moments just watching the tender flesh conform to his thumbs manipulation. "Girl, I'd like to use you now, if you're up for it."

Weird. That sounded like he was asking for permission. I draw my hand out of his hair and bring his attention from my breast to my eyes. "Yes, Marcus. You may use me." I make sure he is fully focused on me. "I'm yours Marcus. Anything you want is yours." 

He leans in and kisses me, his hand cupping my breast and squeezing gently. A soft moan escapes my lips. He repositions himself between my legs. I close my eyes as I lay along the rock beneath me. I feel his fingers exploring my folds, feeling how wet I am, how ready. He's saying something, but it's too quiet for me to hear the words. They sound calm and confident. I let that pass without comment. If they were for me, he'll let me know. The sensations increase significantly when his fingers are joined by his mouth. Warm and soft, it latches on to my clit as my back arches off the rock. A large hand presses my belly back down again. My hands are grasping the sides of the rock as he brings me closer to my first orgasm today. 

I had completely forgotten about this morning. The fear and anger lost in the hurricane of my inner turmoil. Small nips on my clit refocus my attention. Marcus easily brings me to the edge of orgasm. There's no hesitation. I've been at this point before; I know what is needed before he will allow me my release. "Marcus. Please let me cum. Please Marcus."

The intensity and quickness of the orgasm surprises me. When I come back to Earth I can still hear my scream echoing off the canyon walls. Marcus is lapping at my pussy, and I just enjoy the pleasure flowing through my body. I feel a finger slip into my pussy, slowly moving in and out. My body rocks back and forth along with its motion. 

The mouth and finger leave my body. I don't react; Marcus can use me any way he chooses. He grabs my thighs and pulls me closer to the edge of the rock. I hear a zipper open and sense movement between my legs. I wait, legs bent, knees wide. The tip of his cock searches for my opening. Once he finds it, he plunges himself inside me. My breath is forced out of my lungs. Marcus withdraws slowly only to slam back in. Over and over he uses my pussy. Over and over I let him. There's a rock or something digging into the small of my back. It hurts, but not enough to draw my attention away from what Marcus is doing. He pulls me knees up to me chest, and leans over me. For the first time I look up at him. I watch the sweat form on his face as this strong powerful man takes what he wants. He takes me. He wants me.

The new angle gives him deeper penetration, and my body explodes. My pussy clamping down on his thick member. A low growl from Marcus, and a few final thrusts, and his cock starts pumping my pussy full of cum. Marcus rocks back and forth a few times before lying on top of me. My hand runs through his hair again. "Thank you for using me, Marcus. Thank you for allowing me to cum. I'm yours, Marcus. I belong to you."

He lifts himself off me and starts laughing. "So fucking perfect. You are most welcome." I watch as he stands up, his sated cock hanging between his legs, before he tucks it back in his jeans. I lay there, legs splayed open, as he just looks down on me. "So perfect." A few more pictures.

Marcus helps me up, and cleans me off in the frigid water before helping me back on the horse. He hops on Otis, and we continue on our journey through the canyon. We follow the trial up and out. When we get to the top, we dismount to stretch and Marcus hands me my green dress. I take it and wrap it behind his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. I press my naked body against his. He wraps his arms around my waist. "What are you doing, my little minx?"

"You said I should do what you say in the way I think will please you the most. I didn't think covering my body with this dress would be the most pleasing thing I could do. Am I pleasing you now?" His hand roams down to my sore ass. He squeezes the soft globes and pulls me into the curve of his body. "I'm yours. Yours to do with as you please."

Marcus starts growling again. He tends to do that a lot. "Kneel." I drop down and spread me knees. After tying up the two horses, separately of course, he returns and stands behind me. I can see his shadow on the ground by my side. His hand is on my neck, gently pressing me forward until my face is touching the ground. I can see the dress lying in the dirt besides me. I wait. Marcus isn't touching me, he isn't talking to me, as far as I can tell, he isn't doing anything. So I wait some more. 

A sharp jolt of pain shoots through my core. He spanked my pussy. Holy crap. His hand is pressing into the small of my back, holding me in place. Another sharp strike against my pussy. I'm groaning as the pain flows through me. "To bad your ass is still off limits, but this is fun too."

Aw crap! Is this the twelve spanking I get for not begging him? "I'm sorry. Marcus please, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

"For not begging. I'm sorry, please."

I hear him laughing behind me. "This isn't a punishment, girl. This is your reward for pleasing me." Another strike on my pussy. I try to shift, to get some relief to my tingling pussy, but Marcus is firmly holding me in place. He lands three more strikes on the sensitive flesh between my legs. 

He pulls me to my feet and presses my back against the front of his body. His hand wrapped around my throat. His other hand dives between my legs and immediately starts working my clit. My whole body jerks as he makes first contact. He rubs his thumb mercilessly against the sensitive bud. In no time at all, he has my body humming. "Do you want your reward, girl?"

"Yes, please Marcus. Please." 

"My pleasure." My legs give out as he pulls an explosive orgasm out of me. He guides my twitching, limp body carefully to the ground and holds me as I recover. He nuzzles his head against mine as we both sit quietly together. I just sit there and look out over the Grand Canyon until Marcus announces it's time to get going.

He helps me put the dress on, and gets me up on Denver's back. He climbs on Otis and we head back to his brothers ranch. Marcus is whistling softly as we travel in the oppressive late noon heat of the Vegas desert.

Denver knows where he's going and soon we enter the shady relief of the barn. Dominic isn't around, so Marcus dismounts and chains up Otis before helping me slide off Denver. He unsaddles both horses, and then talks me through brushing Denver down. Otis is stomping his hooves as Marcus starts on him. Marcus tells me where to get food and water for the stalls, then I lead Denver into his stall. I found an apple by the feed, so I give that to my horse as Marcus starts shouting at Otis again. 

He leads his horse into the stall and closes the door. He must have caught me laughing at him. He stalks toward me and uses his body to press me into the stalls. "You think that's funny girl?" I can tell from his tone that he's not angry. 

I can't keep myself from giggling again. "Yeah, everyone defers or cowers in front of you, except that horse. I can't decide if that makes Otis the smartest creature in Nevada, or the dumbest." 

He just shakes his head and kisses me. "Dumbest. Definitely the dumbest. Come on, let's go find Dom. I'm starving."

Even before we get to the house, I can smell Mexican food. My stomach grumbles, a second later, Marcus's stomach does the same. We both start laughing as we go through the back door of the long ranch house and into the kitchen. 

I cover my ears as Marcus starts shouting. "DOMINIC? DOMINIC?"

"I'm not deaf, ya bastard." Both men start laughing as Dominic walks in the kitchen. "Lunch will be about another twenty minutes. You know where everything is, so help yourself." 

Marcus takes a quick peek in the oven. "I think we're going to clean up a bit. Twenty minutes should be perfect." It smells so good in here, I don't want to leave the kitchen, but Marcus takes my hand and pulls me along behind him. 

The bedroom is masculine. Heavy wood furniture, dark browns and blues. The large headboard is rustic wood with mountains etched across it. Two comfortable chairs sit in the corner next to a fireplace. A large TV takes up the wall across from the bed. Marcus lifts my dress off me and tosses it on the bed. He guides me into the bathroom. He faces me toward the mirror and stands behind me, one hand under a breast, the other covering my throat. We just stand like this as he looks me over through the mirror. "Such a good girl. Get in the shower, and I'll join you shortly."

After the sun and heat of the desert, I turn on a refreshing cool stream of water. I just stand there as the chilly water hits the top of my head and flows down my body. Marcus suddenly climbs in the shower. "Aww crap! It's freezing in here." He turns the water a bit warmer, but it's still on the cool side. He grabs the soap and a cloth and starts washing me from head to foot. Then he starts to clean himself off. I run my hand down his chest. "Do you need any help?"

He stops instantly and looks at me, then laughs. "No, thank you. Besides, if you did help me, this shower would last a lot longer than twenty minutes, and I'm starving."

I step up and kiss his shoulder, running my hands down his sides. . "Pffft. I'm sure we could find something in here to keep you sated, for a little while, anyway." 

"Bad girl. Turn around." I grumble, but turn and face away from him. "Stay." Well, that was a blow to my ego. I wait, facing the tiled wall as he washes up. He shuts the shower off and dries us off, leading us back into the bedroom. The smell from lunch is permeating the room and my stomach growls again. I stand and watch as Marcus pulls new clothes out of the dresser and starts dressing. He comes back and starts running his fingers through my wet, messy hair. It's very relaxing with his hands rhythmically working my scalp. When my hair is somewhat presentable, he gets me dressed and we go to the kitchen for lunch.

Dominic is there, pulling dishes out of the oven. Marcus sits me down in a chair, and goes to help set the table. There are steak enchiladas, pork tamales, cornbread muffins, and chips and salsa. Everything smells so good. The boys grab drinks for us and then sit down to eat. No formality, no offers of this or that, they just dig in. They have their plates loaded when they both turn to me. They stare at my empty plate for a moment before they both break out laughing. "Our manners suck, little brother. Get our guest some food."




Just Curious Ch. 08



Marcus sheepishly mumbles an apology as he loads my plate with a little of everything. The rest of the meal is spent talking about this and that; sports, weather, politics, old friends, everything and anything. After everyone is stuffed to the gills, the boys work in a familiar unison to put away the leftovers, clean the dishes, and straighten the kitchen. They've probably been doing this since they were kids.

Lemonade is served and we settle into the living room and spend the next few hours chatting again. Marcus pulls me into his lap on the sofa, and Dominic takes one of the recliners. This ranch is an animal rescue farm. Dom takes in abused and neglected farm animals, rehabilitates them, and sells them to animal friendly or family farms. Marcus bought the land and built the house and barns, but Dom lives and works here with a few hired hands. I ask about Otis. Dom says Otis was found when he was about two or three years old in a basement in Utah. They had to demolish part of the house to get him out. He was probably in there since he was a colt. Filthy, underweight, depressed. I can hear the angry undertone as Dominic talks about it. 

They discuss finances, charities that are or are not donating money this month, and the various animals and how they're doing. Marcus talks about several different people they know, I talk about kayaking, Cirque du Soleil , and Freemont Street. Obviously, I leave out the dirty parts; I'm not sure how much Dominic knows about this 'relationship'. It's just relaxing, snuggled in Marcus's lap, watching the two brothers interact. 

The long, lazy afternoon draws to a close. It's almost 4PM, and Marcus is closing up the reunion. He goes to the bedroom to pack up his dirty clothes. Dominic pulls me aside. "You seem good for him. He is less 'intense' today. I'm glad he brought you. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Thank you, Dominic. I had a great time today. You're ranch is marvelous. And your lunch was some of the best Mexican I've ever had."

He puffs up his chest, proud as a peacock, and we both laugh. Marcus walks back into the kitchen and look suspiciously at both of us. "Are you trying to corrupt her, Dom. It won't work."

I have to give Dominic one last laugh before we leave. "Nah, it was nothing like that, Marcus. Dominic was just filling me in on a few of the more embarrassing incidents from your childhood. I think he called it 'blackmail ammunition'." I make a show of winking at the older brother. Marcus gets this perturbed look on his face and Dominic grants my wish of one more belly laugh.

"You are in way over your head with this one, little brother. She'll have you wrapped around her finger by the end of the week." Marcus gives Dominic an exasperated look and sticks his tongue out at me. 

"I'll add that to your multiple spankings you have yet to receive, Marcus." Dominic laughs again as Marcus ushers me out the door. 

"I don't know whether to kiss you or spank you."

I look up at his face while he's opening the SUV door for me. "You could always do both."

"Sassy little minx." He leans in and kisses me so I know he's not mad. I get one last look at the ranch and barn before we start the long drive home. 

It's almost 6PM by time we get back to the condo. Marcus is on me the instant we step through the door. My back pressed against the door, his mouth devouring mine. His hand grabs the back of my dress and pulls. I feel the material digging into my shoulder before giving way under the force tearing at it. The loud ripping sounds through the hallway. Both hands are now pulling the dress apart, ripping it to shreds. My breath is coming is gasps. Desire, pleasure, and intense need are driving me. He hooks a knee over his arm and lifts it up, holding it in the crook of his elbow. 

I reach down and fumble with his pants. I get the button undone easy enough, but the zipper is stuck. I try ripping it open, but I don't have that kind of strength. I make a desperate plea to the gods of sex and lust and zippers. "Come on. Please don't fuck with me right now." 

Marcus is laughing darkly in my ear. "Was that meant for me, or the zipper? If you really want me to stop, I suppose I could chain you up and just masturbate all over your pretty little tits." He bites my collarbone causing me to moan out loud.

"No please. It was meant for the stupid zipper. It's stuck." More dark laughter. He reaches down and easily opens the stupid zipper. My hands instantly dive into his jeans and wrap around his hardening member, urging it out into the open. 

"Such a greedy little girl. Guide me in, baby." With my leg up high, my core is wide open. I rub him along my slit several times before guiding the tip into my cunt.

"Please Marcus. Please fuck me. Use me. I'm yours." 

"You know I love it when you beg so nicely. Request granted." He slams into me, lifting my other foot up off the floor. I'm pinned to the wall. He leans over and hooks my other knee, bringing it up over his arm. My back is pressed against the wall, bent in half at the waist, with both feet wrapped around his back. The only things holding me up are his arms under my knees and the cock slamming into my pussy. The feeling of helplessness is erotic. Of being used. Knowing that I will let him do anything he wants to me is very liberating. I just have to feel. Endure. And wait for him to make me cum. 

He bites my ear lobe. "You have no idea how good that snug little cunt feels on my shaft. A man could get lost fucking that sloppy tunnel." I crude words travel right to my pussy. I wrap my arms around his neck as my core comes crashing down around me. 

When I come up for air, Marcus is still thrusting inside me. My pussy's slick and stretching to accommodate his size. My arms and legs hanging limply, swaying and jolting in rhythm with the pace he's setting. I hear the low growl and feel the abrupt spike in intensity. Soon he's blasting cum deep inside my cunt. 

We slide down the door into a heap on the floor. Marcus is panting as hard as I am. We rest on the floor for a long time, neither of us willing or able to move yet. I groan as I try to shift my arm out from under his hip. "You gotta give me some warning when you're going to do that."

He laughs and nips at my shoulder. "No I don't. Besides if I had told you in the SUV, it wouldn't have changed anything at all." He starts untangling himself, and helps me off the floor. My legs are wobbly. He lifts my chin so I'm looking up at him. "Tell me how your pussy feels."

"Sticky."

He shakes his head. "No girl, No sassy responses this time. I used you pretty hard, I need to know if you're injured or not. How does your pussy feel?"

I take a moment to do an internal parts check. "It's sore. I think it feels swollen, maybe. It's been dryer today when you fucked me."

He nods, like he expected that answer. "And your ass?"

"My ass is warm and tender to the touch. It felt numb during the horseback ride today. But otherwise it isn't too bad." Marcus runs his hand over my ass as I'm speaking.

"Anything else hurt? Joints, jaw, throat?"

I try to think how much he wants to know. "Ummm. Something was sticking in my back today in the canyon, that still hurts a little. When you, ummm, push down my throat it makes me nauseous. My shoulder is tight from the first time you fucked me, when I was tied up, but it doesn't hurt. I think that's it." Marcus checks my back and rubs my shoulder until he finds the tight spot.

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all." 

"Will you tell me why you didn't let me know there was something on the rock in the canyon?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Shhh. You're not in trouble. There's nothing to be sorry for. I would still like to know why you didn't let me know something was hurting you."

I try to look away, but he holds my chin, waiting for me to answer. "I didn't want you to stop. And I think I liked the pain." 

"I know you like the pain. But I need to trust that you'll tell me the truth. If something is wrong, I need to know about it. How do you think I would feel if I hurt you? We took a big step forward with trust today, but I have to be able to trust you also. I need you to promise to tell me if something hurts you."

I didn't think about that. It makes sense though. "I sorry, Marcus. I promise I'll tell you next time."

He hugs me. "Good girl. Now, go take another shower. We're meeting some friends tonight. You have about an hour. We're leaving at 7:30." He turns me around and slaps my ass, pushing me playfully toward the bedrooms.

When I get out of the shower, there's a black fluttery dress on the bed. It has a square cut neckline, no sleeves, and silver chains for accent on my waist. There are several panels of thin flowy black material swirling around the waist and ending just above my knees. Of the dresses I've worn so far this week, this is my favorite. Still no bra or panties, but by now, I wasn't really expecting any. I spin around in front of the mirror and watch the panels rise up and twirl around me.

Marcus comes to collect me, and after checking me over, we head out in the SUV. It's a shorter drive than usual for us. We end up in a cul-de-sac in front of a large two story home with several cars parked outside. Marcus turns and addresses me before we enter. "These are my friends in there. You be on your best behavior, at all times. Understand? Disobedience will be punished. If you embarrass me you will be punished. Do as you're told, when you're told, and in the way you think will please me the most. Got it?"

"Yes Marcus."

"Good, now relax and let's have some fun." He grins at me and gives me a quick kiss. We head up the path to the front door and ring the bell. A pudgy older gentleman with Albert Einstein hair answers the door. 

"Just in time, Marcus. We're ready to begin. Come on in." The man steps aside and Marcus leads me into the house. He has me slip my sandals off at the door. There are several other people in the kitchen, putting last minute preparations on trays of food. The pudgy man starts directing everyone on what goes where, and we all shuffle into the large dining room overlooking a swimming pool taking up most of the back yard. There's an older man in a tux sitting at the head of the table counting out poker chips. There are five empty chairs positioned around the table and smaller stools between the chairs. After we set our food trays down, Marcus takes one of the chairs and indicates a stool for me. Everyone positions themselves in either the chairs or stools.

The chairs are all taken by men, and the stools have three women and one guy occupying them. Everyone settles in as the dealer in the tux hands out stacks of chips. As he's doing this I notice the other girls laughing at me. I'm insecure enough right now; I don't need high school melodrama. The small Asian girl speaks first, still giggling. "What were you thinking, Sir? Look at what she's wearing!"

I don't have time to react. The man sitting by the Asian girl slams his hand down on the tabletop. Everyone jumps. "YUKI!" He grabs her hair and pulls her closer so he can whisper in her ear. The girl nods vigorously, hops off the stool, runs over to our side of the table and kneels behind Marcus and me. I turn to look at her, but Marcus keeps his eyes on the table. 

She starts begging for forgiveness, on her knees, forehead to the floor. "Please sir. I didn't mean to insult you or your guest. Please don't let my poor manners reflect badly on my master. My master has granted you permission to dictate my punishment. Please forgive me sir. Please"

The room goes quiet as we wait for Marcus to speak. He doesn't. He looks kind of pissed. I look around to the other stool sitters to see what they are wearing. They're all in multiple assorted layers of clothes; tops, bottoms, gloves, headbands, scarves, the works. I can count four shirts on the guy, alone. I'm seriously underdressed.

Marcus is still silent, brooding. "Alex. My 'guest' is very new to this lifestyle, and is still struggling with fear and insecurities. Being called out and insulted first thing tonight is not going to make my time with her, limited as it is, any easier. That inexcusable outburst may have set me back days." I hear Yuki sobbing behind us. "But...I have been impressed with my guest's strength and desire to serve, so hopefully this will not hinder her progress much."

Everyone at the table is hanging on Marcus's words, but especially Alex. "I understand the intricacies of training and the time and effort involved. I give you my apologies, and my assurance that Yuki will never speak out against you again."

All eyes turn to Marcus again. "Yuki. Stand and learn your punishment." Yuki stands, but keeps her eyes on the ground. "Yuki, I believe the punishment should fit the crime. To help you remember to hold your tongue, I will direct your punishment there. Alex, tonight Yuki will sleep hanging from her wrists while wearing a weighted tongue clamp. I think two pounds should be enough to help her remember to consider her master before she speaks in the future." 

Yuki doesn't move a muscle as Alex considers Marcus's decree. "Marcus, I give you my word. It will be as you say. Yuki, return to your seat."

Yuki whispers a thank you to Marcus and scurries back to her stool, her eyes never leaving the ground. All the other stool sitters have a moment of eye contact with each other, before the dealer clears his throat as asks if he can begin. Kevin, the guy who answered the door earlier, gives the go-ahead to start the game.

The dealer does his performance; showing all the cards in sequence before shuffling, calling out the house rules for tonight's Texas Hold-em game, and dealing out five hands. I look up at Marcus; I thought I would be playing. Why am I and the other stool sitters just going to sit here? Marcus is focused on the table, and doesn't notice or acknowledge me. So I wait, quietly, with the others.

I didn't get to see what Marcus had in his hand, I was too busy watching everything else, but there's a queen, a nine, and a deuce on the table. Another round of betting, two men fold, Marcus, Kevin and one other are still in. The next card is a queen. That starts the table going. Those that are out, grumbling about their luck. Those that are in are trying to glean any information they can about what the others have. All three men bet again, and the next card is placed face-up on the table. A six of hearts. Again all three men, Abe is the third man's name, match the bets. The last card is a four of clubs. 

Kevin has the two queens with a jack high. He had two hearts in his hand, and was one heart away from a flush. Marcus has the two queens, with an ace high. But Abe had the best hand with two pair - queens and deuces. With a minimal amount of gloating, Abe scoops all the chips in front of him and starts sorting them into piles. He looks over to the man sitting on the stool next to him. "Your turn, Corbin."

Corbin smiles and hops off the stool, ending with a flourish and a spin. He then proceeds to inspect the layers of clothing, before settling on one of his four shirts. He pulls it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. He does a few super-model poses, causing everyone to laugh, before hopping up onto the stool again.

The dots are starting to connect. I look over all the stool sitters again. Multiple layers, an odd assortment of accessories, all sitting on stools; like me. I look down at my one piece of clothing, the black dress. Corbin's little stripper show when his man won. I look up at Marcus as the dealer is shuffling the cards. He has this confident smirk on his face as he watches me. One of the other men pipe up. "Is your lovely guest OK? She looks like she has a problem."

"Nah, she's fine. I assume she's doing some 'mental math' and guestimating how long before I win and she's stripped nude." He's still grinning down at me, watching my reaction. Strip poker! Seriously? Do grown men still do that? Well, obviously they're not, but us stool sitters are. Yuki's comment makes a lot more sense now. She wasn't laughing at me; she was shocked Marcus would only let me have one article of clothing. One win. One win by Marcus, and I'll have to strip, or I'll disappoint him. I remember what he said in the car: 'These are my friends. Don't disappoint me. Don't embarrass me.'

I look down at my lap, as I prepare myself for this next test. The next game is dealt and it goes by in what seems like an instant. Kevin wins, and I look up to see his girl, Lexi, doing a one glove strip-tease. She piles the discarded item on Kevin's messy hair. He shakes his head and the gloves falls to the floor. Everyone is laughing as Kevin gives Lexi a long kiss. 

Next. The dealer shuffles, deals, and bets are made. In the end it's between Marcus and a black man. Marcus starts talking to the dealer. "Andrew, just because you work for Theo doesn't mean you get to 'assist' him by sliding him the good cards."

Theo puts on an overly exaggerated fake insulted face. "Marcus! I had my pick of the best dealers in town. How could you insinuate any less than honest intent?"

Marcus rolls his eyes. "Easy, dear friend. I've seen Andrew doing his card tricks. I have no doubt he knows what every card on the table is." The table erupts in laughter. Theo is still working the fake insulted look.

The dealer finally speaks. "Unfortunately, I do not know what every card on the table is." He winks at us. "I only marked the aces and the face cards." Everyone laughs again. Theo and Marcus show their cards. Theo has a high pair, but Marcus has a flush. "Thank you Andrew, I'll transfer a bonus to your account after the game." More laughter, but the pit in my stomach prevents me from joining them. Marcus won. I watch as he pulls the pile of chips in front of him and starts arranging them into piles.

The laughter is dying down as the dealer starts shuffling again. Marcus is finished with the chips and he turns to look at me. In fact, all eyes are on me. My mouth is dry as I try to swallow. I feel myself standing, my body shaking like a leaf. I wonder if they can see that. My fingers numbly grasp the hem of my black dress. I focus on a spot on the floor as I feel the material slowly rises over my thighs. I can feel the tears start to form as the dress lifts over my pussy, then my waist. I feel the cool air caress my nipples. I maneuver to get the dress over my shoulders, then my head. The dress drops to the floor. I can see a corner of it near the spot on the floor I'm focusing on. 

Marcus stands and pulls me into his arms, kissing me. He coos in my ear, telling me I'm a good girl and how proud he is. He asks if I'm OK and I nod my head yes. He releases me and takes his seat again. Before I can move, one of the stool sitters asks permission for something, I'm not sure what. "Sirs, may we?"

The men must have agreed because all four stool sitters hop up off their stools and embrace me. I stiffen, not sure what to expect. The four sets of arms wrap around me in a platonic hug. I can't tell who is saying what, but they start whispering strength and comfort in my ears. "It's OK. You're safe here. Mr. Marcus is proud of you. No one will hurt you. We're all like you. Don't be embarrassed. Don't be afraid. Be brave. You're beautiful just the way you are. You're safe here. Relax. Be proud of who you are." Eventually I start to relax, and the hug comes to an end. They return to their seats, most of them getting praise from their men. With an offered hand, Marcus helps me back onto my stool. He picks up my dress and puts it on his lap. The game continues.

I stare at my knees. I'm the only one naked, and I don't want to look anyone in the eyes. Marcus puts his hand on my knee, and caresses it with his thumb. I need to know if I did OK, so I have to look up at him. He catches my movement instantly and gives a soft smile, then leans in and kisses me. I glance around the table, and no one is paying any attention to me, except Marcus. Three more hands go by, Yuki, Corbin, and an elegant woman named Jen, all take off one article of clothing. Marcus wins the next hand, and I get to put my dress back on again. This goes on for the next several hours. The stool sitters, myself included, are sent to get snacks and drinks occasionally. The others are all naked at least twice, except Lexi. Kevin was on a losing streak and ran out of chips twice before quitting for the evening. He and Lexi retired to the pool area while the rest of the group finishes the game. 




Just Curious Ch. 09



Only 2 more chapters after this one. I might be a bit biased, but the end of this chapter is pretty hot. Enjoy, my pervy readers, enjoy.

Chapter 9      (Wednesday)

I'm being jostled. The room I'm in is light. More jostling. Uuughh, Marcus. I curl into a ball. Every morning he's woken me up by dripping sweat on me. "No." I'm grumbling. 

The blanket is pulled off; more grumbling. Did I mention I am not a morning person? He grabs my ankles and slides me to the edge of the bed. I cover my face with my arms. "Come on. Not today."

"Not today, what?" His voice is soft and gentle.

"It's gross when you drip sweat on me."

Silence, then laughing. "You don't seem to mind it when I'm using you. In fact, you're usually begging for more."

"Perv. That's 'cause something funner was going on. I wasn't begging you to sweat all over me." He helps me stand.

"Funner? I don't remember ever being called 'funner' before. Not sure it goes with my carefully cultivated reputation as a bad-ass. I wonder if I should punish you for the 'funner-ish-ness' of it."

I slap him lightly on the chest as he pushes me toward the bathroom. "You got thirty minutes. Don't get your hair wet."

I put my hair up and shower quickly. As expected, there is another dress on the bed. This one I've never seen before. My curiosity is peaked. Where did he get it? Why? And what is it? I take a closer look before putting it on. It's a short, very short pleated white, blue, and hunter green skirt with a thin white button down shirt. I roll my eyes and it dawns on me. It's a Catholic schoolgirl outfit. 

I put it on. It's as bad as expected. The skirt is shorter than I'm comfortable with. The sheer white shirt is tighter than tight. It barely reaches the waistline. I'm almost scared to breath. What if a button, ... or multiple buttons, pop off? I'm still taking in the outfit when Marcus comes in and checks up on me. He has long khaki shorts and a polo shirt on. His muscles fill out every inch of the shirt. Why does he get to look so good, and I look like a high-schooler who went through a sudden overnight growth spurt. 

I turn to face him and he has this glint in his eyes. I stick my tongue out at him. "Seriously? What grown man still has this as a fetish? I thought you were a higher level of perv than this?" I indicate the schoolgirl outfit. 

"You should know by now that I prefer you completely naked and begging for more, but unfortunately, that is not an option this morning. So the next best thing is to have everyone else begging for more." He grins mischievously down at me. Ah crap! That is not good. 

Without breakfast, he leads me down to the garage and we leave the strip behind. We chat easily as we drive to a golf course. He parks, hops out and opens my door for me. I look up at him, hoping for a reprieve. "Come on. You'll be fine. The dress is not as bad as you think it is. Trust me."

I hop out, he grabs two golf clubs from the back seat, and we walk into the clubhouse. Marcus registers and pays before we follow the smell of food into the restaurant/bar area. My first Las Vegas buffet! I look around the room to see if anyone is watching me. Not really, but then I see the black man from last night's poker party. I tug Marcus's arm and indicate Theo. "Good girl, let's go have a seat." We walk over to him, he stands to greet us and we sit down for breakfast. Marcus orders me a mimosa and he has orange juice mixed with cranberry juice. 

I'm only allowed a small amount of food from the buffet; some fruit and an English muffin. I'm starving, so I'm not happy about that, but I'm not going to question him in front of his friend. A man walks in and announces we're beginning. He calls three teams; one is up, one is on deck, and the last one is on call. Six men stand and follow the announcer out a glass door to the golf course. They each have only two golf clubs. 

I'm checking out the other people in the room, "Marcus, why does everyone have only two golf clubs?" 

Marcus looks around. "Actually a few have three, but most people prefer two. Two are easier to carry?"

OK, technically that was an answer, but I still don't get it. We eat and chat as more teams are called. People get up by twos and head out the glass doors. Finally Theo and Marcus are called. They grab their two clubs, and all three of us walk to the golf course. We get to the first tee and stop at a small table. There's a skinny man sitting down in front of a laptop, and another older man standing behind him. The guys register, are given three golf balls each, and a numbered race bib they tape to their chest. Marcus is purple 216, and Theo is green 71. Two other men are waiting to tee off. We stand by the desk while the guys discuss strategy. The man standing behind the desk calls out a countdown: Five-Four-Three-Two-GO!

The two guys waiting to tee off hit their balls simultaneously and sprint down the golf course after them. The man, who called the countdown, uses his cell phone to call out the next group from the clubhouse. I look behind us, toward the clubhouse, and another pair of men are half-way here.

Marcus and Theo pick a tee and set up to tee off. Marcus hands me a putter. "Don't get hit by a club or a ball, and keep up, OK. You'll need to hand me the putter when we get close to the cup." 

The man sitting at the desk pipes up. "Excuse me sir, only two players per team."

"She's not playing. She's my caddie." Marcus doesn't even turn to look at him; he's focused on teeing up his ball.

"Sir, caddies are not allowed. This is a timed event, an extra person on the course would slow down this round, and progress through every round after it. I'm sorry, but I can't..." Marcus has turned to glare at the pip-squeak. The man standing behind the desk hits the little guy on the shoulder. When the guy turns to look back, the other mans shakes his head and leans in to whisper something in his ear. The pip-squeak looks back at us and swallows. "That'll be fine, sir. Proceed."

Marcus nods to the older man, and re-tees. As the next group arrives and starts signing in, the older man calls out the countdown: "Five-Four-Three-Two-GO!" Marcus and Theo whack their golf balls in unison and take off down the course after them. I stand there like an idiot for a second or two before my mind catches up and I race off after Marcus. 

For the next hour, I'm running around a golf course in this stupid little dress and a pair of slippery-soled sandals. I wipe out twice; once I end up doing splits, the other time is almost a faceplant in the sand. It's not till the fourth hole before Marcus and I find our rhythm. I figured out to run toward the ball, not Marcus, and that seems to work better than blindly chasing after him. People are shouting occasionally, ourselves and the others. Screaming when a ball gets lost, shouts to warn their partners of incoming projectiles, egging and boasting, and apparently random swearing. I can't stop to see what's going on, I just keep running.

The 18th hole is in sight. There is another man sitting with a laptop. Marcus gets his ball in the cup before Theo. I'm standing with my hands on my knees, gasping for breath, as we wait for him to finish. "What's my score?"

I look up at Marcus. "What? You didn't say I was supposed to keep track! I don't know."

"Why do you think I brought you along? So you're saying I don't have a score for this morning?"

Theo is just now finishing the final hole and coming toward us. "I'm sorry Marcus. I wasn't keeping track. I couldn't even give you a good guess at this point."

Theo joins us breathing heavily and asks Marcus for his score. Marcus answers instantly. "I had a 102. How about you?"

Theo got a 109. I'm about to start shouting at Marcus, when he winks down at me. "I was just fucking with ya. Did you have fun?"

I try to punch his chest, but he grabs me and hugs me instead. "Dork. You scared me to death. I thought I was going to get punished again." Theo has caught on to the prank and both men laugh. We go get our times from the guy with the laptop. Marcus had 77 minutes 32 seconds, Theo had 80 minutes 4 seconds. Marcus has a total score of 179 with a tiebreaker of 32. Theo's total is 189 with a tiebreaker of 4. Holy crap. I ran around a golf course for an hour and 17 minutes. No wonder I'm out of breath. We head back into the clubhouse. Marcus lets me dry my shirt in the bathroom before we sit down for brunch. Now I get to eat whatever I want. I get the bananas foster crepes, bacon, a muffin, and some kind of cheesy hash brown concoction. Marcus, Theo and I sit and chat until my yawning becomes distracting. Both men are looking at me. "Sorry. I can't help it."

Marcus and Theo wrap up their discussion, and we head out. "Home and sleep for you, little minx. You did great this morning."

"Thank you, Marcus. I'm exhausted."

We say our goodbyes in the parking lot, and climb in the SUV and head back home. "That was fun. Thank you for taking me, even if caddies aren't allowed."

"You are more than welcome. I enjoyed watching you scamper around the course. I especially enjoyed the splits you did. Quiet impressive." He winks at me, and I punch his arm. He's a dork sometimes. 

He pulls into the underground parking and parks in his spot. He gets out of the SUV, walks over to my side and helps me out. Then all hell breaks loose. Cops swarm over Marcus; a few are trying to pull me away. "You bastards!" Marcus eyes lock on mine. "Ask for a lawyer and keep your mouth shut. They're trying to get to you." The men pull Marcus up the ramp and out the parking garage. Oh shit! They want me? 

There are two men surrounding me. I feel completely underdressed. A third man walks up and introduces himself. "I'm Captain Williams of the LVPD. And you are?" I don't say anything. He waits then continues. "I'd like to talk to you, if you don't mind?"

"I'd like a lawyer now, please." I can hear my voice cracking.

"You're not under arrest, nor are you suspected of committing a crime. I'm just here to talk to you."

"Where's Marcus?"

"He's talking with some officers outside; I'd thought it'd give us some privacy. See, I don't think you know who he is. I don't think you have a clue what he does."

He pulls a folder from inside his bulletproof jacket. He shows me multiple pictures of men and woman. "All of these people had dealings with Marcus. All of them are missing. All of them! Gone. Off the face of the planet." He shows me maybe two dozen photos in all.

"I also suspect you don't know who employs your 'friend'. Drug dealers. Mob bosses. Mexican Cartels. Russian Bratva. Even the Japanese Yakuza on occasion." With each new criminal organization named, the captain shows me more pictures of Marcus with different people. He lets that sink in for a while.

More pictures. These are all of women. Beautiful women in dresses like mine. With each picture, the captain says a name and a date. I try not to let it show, but those pictures hurt. They probably already have my picture to add to the pile. "I'd like a lawyer now."

"I haven't asked you any questions. Nothing here implicates you in any crimes. I see you're a tough nut to crack. Let's try these pictures. No commentary is necessary." The next group of pictures are all dead people. Some old and dry, some new and bloody. Some in water, some in sand, and some burnt beyond recognition. Old, young, men, women, all races and colors. "You don't have to stay with him. You can walk out of here right now, with us." 

There's a flurry of activity around me. Marcus grabs me and pulls me away from the captain. He goes on an all-out tirade; threatening lawsuits, questioning masculinity, condemning morality, reproaching integrity, and berating their intelligence. If I would have been listening, it would have been quite impressive.

He pulls me out of the parking garage and into the elevator. We don't speak as we rise to the third floor. Quickly out and down the hall to his condo. He unlocks the door and ushers me inside before he starts swearing again. Like full-blown drunken sailor swearing. I stand against the kitchen wall, trying to be as small and quiet as possible, my mind still processing what the captain said to me and what he showed me. I sink to my knees and start crying, softly. Very softly.

Marcus is on the phone, short, brunt orders are shouted. "I need sweepers. Now... The condo...Yes." The next call. "Find out who signed off on this... File a harassment claim... Yeah yeah. I want the paper trail, damn it. I want to know who's rolling the ball on this shit," The third call. "Elliot, Captain Dick-up-his-ass was just fucking with me, but they were after her...Sweep the office and make some calls. I want to know if it's a blind grab, or if they have something...No, the sweepers should be here within an hour...Sunshine in the mountains...The Christmas tree is upside-down...The panther is on the bookshelf. Got it? OK. Quick quiet on everything and I'll talk with you later."

Oh joy, he has codes for this. I hear him sit at the kitchen table. I know he's looking at me. I try to stop sobbing and sit as quietly as possible. He doesn't move, doesn't talk; he just sits there. Minutes go by. I hear him getting up off the chair. He gently takes me by the arms and helps me stand. He tries to hold me, but my instincts make me pull away from him. I still can't look at him. Does he really kill people? 

He takes my wrist and leads me to his bedroom and into the bathroom. He turns on the water and starts unbuttoning my sheer white shirt. It drops on the floor. He turns me around and unbuttons and unzips the skirt. That joins the shirt on the floor. One by one, Marcus's clothes join mine. He checks the water temperature, and then guides me inside the shower. I'm not chained up this time, so I just stand there. Marcus washes me first. From top to bottom he shampoos and soaps me down. Then he cleans himself. He dries us off and we go into his bedroom. I stand there naked, with my hair dripping, as he gets dressed. He then looks through my bag, but he seems frustrated so he drops it onto the bed. He produces a large soft bathrobe and helps me into it. It's his, so it hangs off me. He grabs my cell phone and his laptop and we go back to sit in the kitchen. He pulls a chair for me, and another sits empty across from him. The electronic devices sit quietly in the middle of the table.

We wait in silence. Marcus's cell phone buzzes. He answers it, but doesn't speak. He gets up and pushes the button by the door. A short time later there's a knock, and Marcus lets three men in. They're dressed casually, carrying backpacks. They enter without saying a word. One man sits at the table with me, another goes to the living room, the third goes down the hall toward the bedrooms. 

The man in the living room pulls out something that looks like a hand-held metal detector and starting in a corner, methodically goes over every inch of the room. The man at the table starts up a small laptop then takes Marcus's cell phone and slips the backing off and pulls out the battery. He searches it visually, before replacing the battery and plugging it into his laptop. Wordlessly, these men systematically go through the entire condo. Every electronic device is searched, including my cell phone. It doesn't take long for them to finish. The man who checked the electronics is the first person to speak. "The apartment is all clear. The security footage from the hallway isn't quite done yet, but he went back two weeks, and nothing unusual so far. The SUV had a tracker on the rear wheel well."

"What kind?"

"A Trax. Real-time tracking. It has a two day history, so it was placed Monday." He puts a finger to his ear and cocks his head to the side. "The security footage is done; no one is seen entering your condo from the hallway camera." Monday was the spa. They've been following us since then.

"Does he have the garage footage from earlier?" Marcus seems to be handling this like it's an everyday occurrence.

"Yes, sir."

"Let me talk to him." The man pulls out his cell and hits the speed dial, then hands it to Marcus. Marcus asks what the cops did to me in the garage. Then he asks for it to be sent to his e-mail. He hangs up and thanks the men. The leader says he'll check the SUV randomly for the next week. The men leave. It's just Marcus and me now.

Marcus sits down again. Silence. I know he's watching me. I know he's livid, but he's not mad at me. I hear the screech as he scoots his chair forward. I've had over an hour to think and process the situation. Finally I look him in the eye. I catch him with his mouth open prepared to speak. "Don't. Just don't. I am exhausted. Having a S.W.A.T. team attack me scared the living crap out of me, which is what it was designed to do. I was shown pictures of people. First they said they were missing, but for all I know they could have been shoplifters at Wal-Mart. Then pictures of you standing next to people. Again, that could have been anyone; lawyers, politicians, your baseball team, anyone. Third were pictures of you with tons of women; just like me. I knew you don't get to be like you without a lot of practice, but I didn't need that 'practice' thrown in my face. The last group was gory and disgusting, and I hope they don't show up in my nightmares. But if they knew you had killed all those people, you'd be in jail already. Wouldn't you? It was just a shock tactic by the cops."

I struggle to my feet. "Am I happy right now? No, not at all. Do I feel safe? I'm not sure how I would define 'safe' at this particular moment, but I don't think you'd hurt me. I don't like the thought of cops stalking me and harassing me. I know you're a bad man, but you haven't shown me anything illegal or shady yet. Do I want to go home? I know there's a soft, comfortable bed at my house. So if you don't get me some sleep soon, I'm going to go there to get some sleep. I just want to go to sleep, OK." His mouth is still partially open and he's just staring at me.

I roll my eyes. I stomp my foot down. The scream comes from somewhere deep down inside me. "Close your mouth and do something! You're supposed to be in charge, remember?" 

In an instant he launches at me. My arms are wrenched above my head. His bulk slams into me, pressing me against the wall, my breath whooshing out my lungs. One arm wraps around the small of my back, pulling my body against his. We stay motionless like this for a small eternity; I feel his hot breath rhythmically bearing down on my ear. "When you have the nerve to give ME orders, I get an overwhelming need to BREAK YOU. To make you crawl. To make you beg. To make you scream." 

He keeps me pinned to the wall until he regains control. With a hand on the back of my neck, he guides me to the bedroom. The bathrobe is unceremoniously stripped off me and tossed on the floor. "Bed. Now." I walk carefully to the bed, pull the sheets back and climb in. Marcus turns the baby monitor on and glares down at me for a while before finally turning to leave. My mind is swirling around dozens of thoughts and ideas, but not able to focus on any particular one for long. I haven't have a good sleep in what seems like ages, I was running around a golf course earlier, and my tummy is full of decadent, sleep-inducing food. My mind doesn't stand a chance and soon I'm slipping into a deep, healing sleep.

*********

The veil of sleep is slowly lifting off me. My eyes flutter open, the curtains over the windows drowning out the bright Nevada sunlight. Vegas. I'm in Vegas. Marcus. Where's Marcus? I try to move, but I'm stuck. A large arm is under my head, another is wrapped around my stomach. Our legs are so intertwined that I don't know where mine begin and his ends. The slow regular breathing behind me turns into a low soft growl. The arm around my stomach moves higher up and tugs me closer into his body. How did he wrap himself around me without waking me up? "Marcus."




Just Curious Ch. 09



More grumbling and shifting around, one of his powerful legs stretches itself straight. "Marcus?"

"Wha? Go seep." He's not fully awake yet. 

"Marcus, I need to use the bathroom. Would you let me go, please?"

More grumbling, but he does untangle himself from me. "Come right back."

"Yes Marcus." I hop off the warm soft bed and scurry to use the bathroom. I brush my teeth and wash my face before climbing back into the bed. Marcus instantly wraps himself around me, tucking me in tight against his body. About ten seconds later his watch starts beeping and Marcus starts swearing as he tries to silence it. I try not to giggle. A long groan comes from behind me, then an equally long stretch. He rolls onto his back and I sit up, stretching my arms above my head before flopping back down. "Can't we just stay here?"

A huge mischievous grin grows on his handsome face. "Now that would be very entertaining, but there's something I want you to see tonight. But first dinner and some dancing."

"oooohhh. I love dinner. It's one of my three most favorite meals in a day." My hands clapping with fake enthusiasm. 

"Brat." He tries to swat me on my nose, but I was ready for him and dodge it. He grabs for me and we wrestle until we crash to the floor laughing. He tells me to kneel as he untangles himself from the blankets and stands next to me. He stretches again before running his cock over my face. "Service me."

I am more familiar with him now, so I know what he likes. It doesn't take me long before his hot cum is filling my mouth and his praise is filling my heart. He sends me to the shower. As expected there's another dress on the bed when I get out. It's a two-piece with soft purple/blue swirled material. The top looks like two triangles sewn together. Three spaghetti straps on each shoulder hold the top up, while the points of the triangle travel down my sides, leaving my lower back and stomach exposed. The dress has a simple elastic band. The right side ends around mid-thigh, while the left side grazes my knee. 

Marcus comes in to check on me. He's wearing black jeans and a dark blue shirt emphasizing his muscles. I spin for him. "Very beautiful. Are you ready to go?" He takes out his camera and clicks a few pictures. 

"May I please check my phone first?" He nods and leads me to his bedroom. I start removing my dress, but he stops me. I unplug my phone from the charger and he calls me over. He has me straddle him. His hands travel up my stomach and play with my breasts as I check my emails and texts. I notice its Wednesday and it's almost 7PM. I didn't even know what day it was. I make one call to my parents and thankfully I get the answering machine. I tell them I'm fine and having a great time as my hips start rocking back and forth on Marcus's lap.

"I'm done. Thank you Marcus."

"Go plug it back in and we'll go get dinner." Unbidden, I kiss him. I think it was intended as a quick peck, but it turned into something longer and more intimate. He growls when we break apart. "You make it hard to leave, my little minx. Up. Now." We both stand and he readjusts his pants, then we head down to the garage and out into the early evening lights of Vegas.

We drive away from the bright gaudy lights of the strip and into a more 'local' section of town; quiet streets, basic lighting, and regular homes and businesses. Marcus points out a long brick building with two smokestacks chugging out white puffy smoke. The smell of grilled meat is prominent from a block away. On the front of the building, spelled out in huge silver letters is 'PALEO'. There are about two dozen people waiting in line outside. Marcus parks in the lot next to it and we walk toward the restaurant. I go to stand in line, but he guides me past them and around the side of the building. He starts banging on the side door until a tiny, grumpy looking Asian man opens it. I try not to laugh as his neck cranes to look up at Marcus. It takes a second for him to recognize Marcus, then he becomes all smiles.

"Sir, welcome. Just the two of you tonight? I will have Jenny get you a seat right away. Come in. Come in." Marcus leads me through the kitchen and the man starts calling out in a coded language I don't fully understand. "Jenny. Two" And he waves his hand, palm forward, up and down. "Milo. Courtnee. Buckets. Scott. Red. Juan. White. Now now now." People start scurrying around and a young woman dressed all in black, I'm assuming this is Jenny, leads us out of the kitchen and into a large darkened room with high ceiling. I see two huge separate fire pits along one wall. Two men at each fire pit are focused on grilling. Jenny sits us at a bar height wooden table with two plain wooden stools. The table is shined to a high gloss, but only about a foot and a half or two feet wide, but twice that in length. There's a light from the ceiling pointing directly on the tabletop, but doesn't cast much light on anything else. The table is slanted down toward the center, with a small channel running down the middle. Weird, I notice there's a hole in the end of our table. I look down to see only darkness, but then I glance to the table next to us, and there's a bucket hanging from below that table.

I hear the click of the camera. I catch Marcus smiling at me. "What?"

"I love watching you when you're curiosity is peaked. I'm surprised you didn't sniff something."

I'm about to respond when Jenny comes back and asks for our order. Marcus orders us two beers. Then he orders the 'sea critter' plate, spicy mushrooms, pineapples, and a 9 oz. peppered T-Bone, medium-rare. The waitress enters the order and says she'll put the order in right away, then turns and leaves. 

The beers come almost immediately. A man is walking around the room with a large piece of meat on a skewer. "Elk?" Marcus declines. A few minutes later another woman comes around. "Pork?" 

Marcus seems excited now. "Yes please." The woman takes a knife and cuts a slice of pork off the skewer and plops it onto the table top. Ummm... where are the plates? Utensils? I watch as Marcus scoops up the meat in his fingers, folds it and takes a big bite, juice is dripping off his chin. The table isn't very wide, and he easily reaches over, offering me some of the plate-less, utensil-less, meat. I stare at him for a second before I lean in a take a bite. OMG! It's juicy, garlicky and I think there's some kind of nut making up the crust. We both laugh as we wipe juice off our chins.

"No plates? Or utensils?" I just have to ask.

"Nope. That wouldn't be very caveman-ish." He's grinning at me like a kid.

"So what exactly is a sea critter? Or don't I want to know?"

"I can't tell you that. It'd ruin the surprise." Another waitress comes around with skewers of shrimp. Marcus accepts and she slides the shrimp off the metal skewer and onto our table. We feed each other shrimp. Marcus offers me his fingers and I suck them clean. We're both laughing as the 'critters' arrive. They come as they get done from the grill. First is bacon wrapped scallops, then crab legs, then oysters, then a full lobster, and last is crayfish. All of them dropped right onto the tabletop. The grilled mushrooms and pineapple come in a lettuce bowls, lastly the T-Bone is dropped in front of Marcus. He claps his hands and rubs them together for dramatic effect. I roll my eyes. He's like a little kid sometimes.

We stuff ourselves. Marcus ends up feeding me most of the food. Butter and juices are running down both our arms, but in this restaurant, that's expected. I try to get my garbage into the hole, but Marcus just tosses his into the middle of the table. When it gets too big, he swipes his hand and all the shells and casings are swept into the bucket. I watch as he picks up the T-Bone and takes his first bite, ripping the meat off. He offers me the steak. After looking at it, I take it gently between four finger tips and take a big bite. It's grilled to perfection. The pepper gives it a slightly spicy, tangy flavor. Everything is so good.

The chef/owner comes over and talks to us for a while, asking if everything was OK and if we needed anything. I can't help gushing about the food. It's basic, primal, but done in a way that makes it seem elaborate. He hands us two moist hand towels, and excuses himself back to the grills. I sniff the towel, its lemon scented. I glance up to see Marcus laughing at me.

"Yeah. OK. I sniffed it. Happy?" He can't stop laughing. "Do you own this place?"

"Sort of. I'm one of three investors. Alban had the dream and the experience to pull this off; I just gave him some of the money to achieve it." Marcus tosses his used towel on the table and gets up to leave. I toss mine down, and let him help me up. We've been sitting on hard, backless stools for almost two hours. I rub my butt to get some circulation going. 

Marcus wraps his arm around me and squeezes. "Uugh. I ate too much. I think I'm going to explode." 

He laughs. "Excellent. I have just the thing planned to work off all those extra calories. Are you ready for dancing?"

Uugh. I don't think I can move, much less dance. And I never liked those raves. Too many people. Too many drugs. I hope that's not where he's taking me. We head out to the parking lot. The line out front is longer than before; worth the wait in my opinion.

The sun is almost set for the evening. The pinks and oranges in the sky are being replaced with blues and blacks. For the first time, Marcus uses the GPS. I notice he doesn't enter an address, but a group of coordinates. He takes my hand and leans in to kiss me. 

We drive out into the desert, the sky getting darker every minute. Off in the distance, I see lights. As we get closer the lights turn out to be bonfires. I can see people dancing in front of them. We pull up to a man who directs us where to park. I can hear the beating of drums, like a pulse thumping through everything; the ground, the cars, my bones. Very primal.

It's a drum jam. At night. In the desert. In the middle of nowhere. There's only 30-40 people dancing so far, so it must be early. There are about a dozen drummers in a semi-circle in front of several cars and trucks with their lights on. In front of the drummers is a dance floor made up of many, many rugs. About ten feet back, and surrounding the dance floor are metal barrels spurting flames, adding another primitive aspect to the evening.

Even before we reach the dance floor, I'm bouncing to the beat of the drums. Marcus leans down and kisses the top of my head. "Easy girl." I'm grinning up at him. This is going to be fun.

We first walk behind the drummers. Marcus greets most of them with a hand on their shoulder. The drummers smile and a few words are exchanged, but they never stop drumming. I see a few more drummers setting up alongside the main group. I'm still bouncing up and down, eager to begin. This is going to be so much fun. 

We circle around to the other side, and Marcus greets a few more onlookers. From the conversation, these are the organizers of this drum jam. How many are expected? Where's the water? The latrine? Then he asks about a few specific people. I'm still hopping up and down.

"OK. OK. OK. Thanks guys, I'll check with you later. I gotta go before this one breaks her leash." I stick my tongue out at him. He spins me toward the dance floor and swats my ass. "Go." So much fun.

Yes, I'm free. I slip into the midst of the other dancers; hopping, spinning, swaying. We just let the rhythm of the drums flow through us. The beat is sounding through our flesh and bones. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. People are wearing anything and everything. There are jeans and shorts, fancy tops and T-Shirts. One lady is dressed in a cat outfit, tail and ears included. Four guys are wearing togas. A few women are even topless. Old, young, thin, fat, light skin, dark skin, and everything in-between. It ends up being one large mass of bodies, all dancing and swaying in unison to the beat of the drums. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. 

Sometimes I dance alone among the throng of bodies, sometimes Marcus comes up behind me and we dance together. Marcus also gets the option of dancing with other people, but every time a man comes up to dance with me, Marcus blocks him. I shout over the rhythm of the drums. "Party-pooper."

His eyes are intense as he looks down on me. "You are MINE." Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

I press my body into his. "Yes." We dance until sweat is dripping down my face. My body is flush with heat in the cool desert night. He pulls me off the carpets and toward one of the pickup trucks. The bed of the truck is covered in a plastic tarp and filled with ice and bottled water. As a man hands Marcus two bottles, I stick my hands in the ice and run the cold water over my face. He hands me one of the bottles and it disappears almost immediately. He is a little slower and sipping his. After the water break we go back to the SUV. I hope we're not leaving already. Marcus opens the driver's door, slips his wet shirt over his head and tosses it in the backseat. I run my hand over his chest, my fingers seeking out the scars shining in the firelight. He takes my hands and kisses my fingertips. Then he opens the back on my top. Slowly he opens all three clasps and then slides the top down my arms and it joins his shirt in the back of the SUV. He kisses me again before closing up the SUV and leading us back to the dance.

There are more people here now. There's a man dancing on a large heavy ball. There's another cat lady, except her costume isn't as good as the first. The first cat lady has a LARP'er costume, probably custom made. The second one looks like a store-bought Halloween costume. There are four people covered head to foot in paint, each one a different color: brown, red, blue and white. Earth-Fire-Water-Air. The drum captain has changed, I see Marcus over talking with the first drum captain as a whistle blows and a faster beat is starting. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

The crowd moves as one. We circle right, swaying and spinning and hopping up and down. Some have choreographed moves, others, like me, just letting the music move their body and soul. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. The soulful baying of bagpipes joins the night. More drummers have joined in, setting up in any open space around the mish-mash of rugs on the ground. The dance goes on and on.

Marcus is standing on the outskirt talking with a man and a woman. He motions me over. I follow the mass of dancers until I'm closer, then I slip out toward the edge and meet up with him. He has just left the couple and we walk away from the music. There's a trench dug into the ground with several torches around it. Marcus walks right up and starts relieving himself. I automatically turn away. Two women arrive, giggling. They take some toilet paper from a post near the torches, straddle the trench and squat down. Yeah, I don't want to see that either. Marcus is laughing at me. "Go on, girl. It's been hours and we're not leaving any time soon."

He unrolls some toilet paper as I clumsily straddle the deep trench. I look around before I lift my dress and squat down. The two girls are finishing as I start. Marcus hands me the paper when I'm done, and helps me off the trench. We wash our hands with bottled water. We weave our way around the cars and trucks until we meet the couple Marcus was just talking to. The woman is a thin, leggy blonde, and the man is average looking and in his late forties. 

The men shake hands and the girls look each other over. She's beautiful. Marcus interrupts my thoughts. "Ready?"

The blonde looks to her man and he nods. Only then does her face light up with excitement. Oh Joy. Where is this going? The drums are still ever present in the background of this new situation. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

Marcus turns to me, and with an 'Up ya go' he helps me into the bed of a pick-up truck. He has me scoot further back then has me kneel. The other man moves to the side of the truck so he can look into the bed. We both watch as Marcus starts 'petting' the blonde. Stupid blonde. Her hair. Her face. Down her neck and over her breast. He's whispering in her ear, but I can't hear what he's saying. He slides his hand behind her back and pulls her body against his. I can feel my blood start to boil. Why is he touching her? Why is he touching her instead of me?

I turn away when he starts kissing her. Almost immediately I hear him. "Eyes on me, little minx." I return my glare to them. I can't keep the sneer off my face as he starts unbuttoning her shirt. Her breasts are large and pert, with pierced nipples peaking in the cool night air. He sucks her tits for a while before her slips her shorts off, dropping them on the ground. 

He lifts her up and sits her on the tailgate. His hand starts on her stomach and glides up her body to her neck, slowly pressing her down onto her back. She looks up at me, and I wordlessly look down at her. I realize she's like me. That knowledge doesn't make me like her anymore, but I know whatever happens, she's not doing it for Marcus, she's doing it for the man watching from the side of the truck. Suddenly, Marcus jerks her down so her ass is closer to the edge of the tailgate. Marcus is standing between her spread legs. 

His eyes lock on mine as he runs his hands up and down her body. She's writhing on the bed of the truck, her eyes going between her man and Marcus. He lays kisses down between her legs and she starts moaning. Her hand is on his head, silently begging him for more. How can he do this? How can he make me watch? 

Marcus comes up for air, his nose and mouth glistening with her moisture. I'm still kneeling by her head. He looks right at me. "There's something I want you to see, little minx. Something I can't do to you in the time I have you. Watch, and know, if there was any possible way, this would be you." The dumb blonde looks up at me with sad eyes and a sad smile. I probably shouldn't call her that. I doubt she had much involvement in arranging this little soiree, but Marcus is going to fuck her and not me. I am not a happy girl right now. 

Marcus lifts her arms above her head and between my knees. He tells me to hold them down and not let go. I place my hands on her forearms and press them down against the cab of the truck. She opens and closes her hands; Marcus sees this and nods at her. The man at the side of the truck tells the girl he loves her and she gets s huge grin on her face. 

Marcus is opening his jeans and pulling his cock out into the open. I watch, part fascinated part furious, as he slips a condom on. He starts to rub himself up and down her slit. Lining up with her pussy, he slowly works himself inside her. Her back arches up trying to accommodate his size and I have to press down harder to keep her arms in place. 

He works them up to a good strong pace. I can't take my eyes of the junction between her legs; watching his large body force his manhood to disappear inside her smaller frame. A combination of pain and pleasure is drawing long keening moans from the blonde. As Marcus increases the pace of his thrusts, the blonde's moans change also. Her pleasure is vocalized in short, high pitched, gasping sounds. 

Marcus leans forward and wraps his large hand around her throat. The moans stop instantly. I look down; the blondes' eyes are wide and fixated on him. Her mouth is open, but no sound escapes. Her back arches and she tries to pull her arms down. I hold her down. Marcus releases her. The blonde is coughing and gasping for breath, her tits bouncing from Marcus viciously slamming into her core. She's begging him now. Please Please Please over and over. Her back arches, I have to use my knees to keep her arms down. "No. Knees wide open girl. I need to see her hands." I comply, leaning forward to get more weight on her arms. Marcus wraps his hand around her throat again. All sounds stop, except the rhythmic thrusting of flesh against flesh, and the dark beating of the drums in the distant background. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.




Just Curious Ch. 09



I watch, transfixed, and Marcus cuts off her oxygen again. Her mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. She twists and arches into the constant pounding her pussy is receiving. I'm also holding my breath this time; feeling the fog lift, then the pressure in my chest, then the burn in my face and throat. He releases her throat. I exhale. His pace slows to a crawl and she gasps beneath him. He's calming her now; his hand gliding over her skin, his voice caressing her ears. I almost feel like I'm intruding on a private moment.

"Are you ready Marie? One more time for me, baby. Are you ready, my sweet?" He's sucking on her tits as her answer rambles on. "Yes. Please. Oh god, please. Please fuck me sir. Yes. Please." 

Marcus glances at me. That one look tells me I'm the one he wants on the bed of the truck, not her. He picks up the pace; the blonde's body is following wherever he leads her. I don't know how I missed it, but for the first time tonight I see something I never saw before. I see the complete, absolute, unwavering trust in her face. Trust. Something I haven't been able to give him. 

He brings her again to the edge of her orgasm. Her pleas replaced with moans and squeals. Her back arches and her eyes roll back, and that is when Marcus strikes. His hand is like a metal band encompassing her neck. Her scream of pure pleasure is cut short, only the omnipresent beat of the drums is heard. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Marcus hasn't cum yet. I see the concentration on his face. 100% of his focus is on the blonde. He releases her and I can't hold her down anymore. I watch, fascinated, as she curls in and her body starts twitching. Marcus scares me with a shout, as he finds his release inside the blonde. She wraps her arms and legs around him as he collapses to her side, both panting like they had just run a marathon. 

I look to the man watching from the side. He has a proud, pleased smile as he looks down on his woman. This is so surreal. The man reaches down and pets the blonde's hair. Groggily, she turns to look at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Such a good girl, Marie. I'm so proud of you. Very good girl." 

Marcus lifts himself up off the bed of the truck, slips off the condom, and tucks himself back in. He helps Marie off and into the gentle hands of her man. The man holds her and asks if she's OK. She just nods and smiles and whispers 'thank you' to him. The man shakes Marcus's hand and thanks him, then tells us he wants to get Marie home. Marcus kisses the blondes forehead and wishes her a good night before she's led away into the night. 

I'm still frozen in the back of the truck. "Come here girl." I don't know what to do, so I crawl forward. He puts a hand under my chin and forces me to look up at him. He just stares at my face for the longest time. "Why couldn't you do that with me? Why did you have to use her?"

"Breath play is the ultimate in control. I've known Marie for over ten years, even before she met her current master, Ben. It is very dangerous. It doesn't take a lot a pressure to crush a person's windpipe, and I could easily kill her. I trust her implicitly to let me know when something is wrong. She trusts me to remain completely focused on her, over my own pleasure. Absolute trust. Absolute control. It takes a long time to achieve that level of trust, and I don't have that kind of time with you."

He sits on the edge of the tailgate and pulls me into his lap. He slips one hand under the elastic waistband of my dress and begins playing with me. "You're wet. Exactly the way I like you." Instead of the something fun I was hoping for, we start a session of 400 questions. How did you feel holding another person down? Why can you watch another woman getting fucked, but you don't like other women watching you. Why did you hold your breath when I was choking Marie? What do you feel about Ben, who let his submissive be used by another man? What do you feel about me fucking other women? How would you feel if I let another man use you? Did you like Paleo? Do you like the drum jam? Did you get enough sleep? Do you know your body seeks out mine, even when you're sleeping? Etc. Etc.

I just go into a zone, feeling his fingers stroking my fire, my mind goes blank and I answer the questions as best and as honestly as I can. When he's satisfied with my answers, his hands and mouth bring me close to the edge. Then he stops. "Please Marcus. I was good"

"Shhhh girl. You were very good today, but you cum only when I choose. And right now....I choose not to let you cum." I grumble a little bit, but I know begging won't change his mind. We sit there as my body cools down without its release. I don't even know when the last time I came was. Yesterday? 

He helps me off his lap, and we hop off the bed of the truck. He seems to be in a happy mood as we wander back to his SUV. He pulls me into his arms and presses me against the driver's side door. His hand delves into the back of my skirt, cupping my ass and lifting me up on my toes. His mouth is on mine, and I let him take whatever he wants. I feel the muscles of his shoulders tensing and coiling under my fingers. "God, I love using your body. It reacts to every little touch. It takes everything I give it. A man could get lost in a body like this." He leans in and nuzzles me, not kissing, just rubbing his face against mine. Both hands are inside my skirt now. He eases it over my hips and the soft material slips down my legs, pooling at my feet. "There now. That's how I like you best; naked, wet and writhing in my arms."

He picks up my skirt and tosses it in the SUV. "Come on, there are drums a beating, dancers dancing, and fuckers fucking tonight." He gives me another mischievous grin, and pulls me toward the drums and the dancers. Not surprisingly, I'm not the only one dancing naked tonight. As the night progresses, more and more men and women lose more and more clothes to the banging of the drums. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom. Bom.

The clock in the SUV displays 4:17AM when we finally leave the drum jam. The sky in the east is just starting to lighten. Silently, I watch as Marcus drives us out of the desert and toward the bright lights of the city that never sleeps. His short hair is spiky, and he's as sweaty and dusty as I am. Even with something as routine as driving along a dark, deserted road, I can see the focus in his eyes. His eyes are clear, and a soft brown color you could get lost in if you weren't careful. His lips are soft and full, a little tinge of red against his sun-kissed skin. I'm trying to decide if the lines around his eyes are crow's feet or laugh lines when he turns and looks directly at me. How did he know I was checking him out? He laughs as I look away. "Do you like what you see, little one?"

"Yeah." I feel like a little school kid caught doing something stupid.

"Yeah? You've been staring at me for ten minutes, and all I get is a 'yeah'?" He's teasing me again. I resist the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him. 

"I don't know. I guess I never really saw you as an actual real person. You always seemed overwhelming. You were just this huge presence, influencing every aspect of my life for the last few days. You're kinda cute, though."

He gives me this over-exaggerated shocked expression. "Kinda? I'm KINDA cute? You sure know how to burst a guy's bubble. Jeez. Kinda cute is almost insulting." 

I punch him lightly on the arm. "Fine. You're kinda cute AND a dork. Better?"

"God, you are such a brat." I smile innocently and thank him for the compliment. We both laugh and relax into the long drive home. No cops are waiting for us in the garage. Nothing jumps out at us in the elevator. The condo is silent and dark as we enter. When he flips on the kitchen lights, the harsh artificial illumination washes away all traces of the firelight we were dancing in earlier. "Shower and bed, little one. I have to go to work in a few hours, and you're coming with me."

He ushers me into my room, and he heads to his room. The water is refreshing, washing away all the sweat and grit and grime I accumulated throughout the night. I wash my hair and scrub my feet until the water runs clear. I have a towel wrapped around me and I'm brushing my hair when Marcus walks in. He's only wearing his dark green pajama bottoms; his hair is dripping water on his shoulders. He watches me as I finish my hair and brush my teeth. 

"Time for bed." He helps me get settled and tucks the blankets in. He turns on the baby monitor and kisses me good night. "See you in a few hours. Sleep well, little girl."

I stare at the ceiling, white, square, boring. I turn on my side and stare at the wall. Tasteful generic pictures on a square boring wall. There's no clock in this room, I wonder if there's a reason for that? I turn to the other wall; long floor to ceiling curtains, and a square boring wall. I roll onto my back, arms draped over my eyes, trying to force sleep to come. That never worked in the past, and it's not working this time. I just can't sleep. I roll onto my side.

I sit up in the bed. I can't sleep. I stare at the door for a long time, trying to decide what to do. Well, I know what I want to do; I'm just not sure what he wants me to do. Fuck it. The worst he can do is send me back to bed, right? Well, he could do worse, but I'm willing to risk it right now. I slip out of my room, still naked, and pad quietly down the hall. I wait outside his door. There's light coming from the crack under the door. I stand there silently, listening for something, anything. My hand is shaking as I knock on the door. I wait and there's no answer. I open the door a crack, not enough to slip through, and knock again. "Marcus?"

"Come in." I peek around the door and he's sitting at a desktop computer. I timidly walk into the center of his room. I feel like an idiot now. What if he does send me back to bed?

"I can't sleep. Can I please stay here tonight?" My toes are digging into the carpet. I try not to fidget. Marcus stands and walks around the desk. He stops in front of me and stares down at me for a long time. He runs his hand along my jaw line and draws my eyes to his. Without a word, he turns and walks away. I watch as he goes into a closet, then a dresser, and walks back to the bed. One by one, he drops items on the bed: plain metal handcuffs, a maroon blindfold, a small plastic package with lime green foam earplugs, nipple clamps connected by a silver chain with tiny bells, a riding crop, and the last item is a brown leather dog collar with a short leather leash.

He steps back and watches me silently. I look down at the items; I know he wants me to put them on. I start with the nipple clamps, gently rolling my nipples till they peak before placing the alligator clamps on them. Next are the ear plugs, I tear the package open and slip them inside my ears. I turn my head left to right, trying to notice a difference, but it was quiet in here to begin with. If I put the handcuffs on, I won't be able to do the others. If I put the blindfold on, I won't be able to see what I'm doing. That leaves the collar. The dog collar. I pick it up. The leash is affixed to the collar and comes along for the ride. I open the metal buckle and take a big breath before slipping it around my neck and securing it. The leash is hanging down between my breasts, I watch as it sways in silence. I look at the last few items, deciding on the best way to proceed. I don't know if he wants my hands in front or behind me. I take another breath and follow my gut. I take the hand cuffs and place them on one wrist, letting the other side dangle. I climb on the bed, kneeling before the last two items. I place the crop against my knee so I know where it is. I take the blindfold and place it over my eyes, wiggling it so it blocks out all light. I reach down and pick up the crop. I go into the kneel position on the bed and raise both arms to shoulder height, resting the crop in my open palms, the open handcuff swinging from my wrist. 

I stay in this position and wait. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything, except my own breathing. I don't know if he's happy. Hell, I don't even know if he's in the room. All I can do is wait, so that's what I do.

It is a long time before I feel anything. Marcus places his hand on my cheek and I press into the contact. His hand glides down my body and tugs on each nipple clamp in turn, checking their placement. I give a little moan as the pain starts to flow through my breasts. Next he checks the collar. He tries to shift it left, then right, but it doesn't move. He tries to slip two of his thick fingers under the collar, but they won't fit. He unbuckles it, loosens it, and then rebuckles it. His fingers slip between the leather and my neck easily this time. It also slides to the left and right now. He kisses my ear lobe, takes the crop out of my hands, then all contact is lost again.

I wait. Next I feel his hands on my shoulders. He's moved behind me, his thighs hitting my feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He kisses my back and shoulders. My head drops forward, enjoying the sensation of his lips against my skin. His hands move down my arms, gently pulling them behind my back. My wrists touch, and he secures the dangling cuff to my free wrist, effectively binding my arms behind my back. 

My body is on fire, but for some reason, I'm completely calm. I remember he once used the term 'veil of content' and I never understood that. To be kneeling here on his bed, in his room, bound, blindfolded, and deafened to the world, I feel content. I'm exactly where Marcus wants me to be. In a position he wants me in. I will feel exactly what he wants me to feel. I know in my gut I'll let him use me any way he wants to use me. I'm not afraid; not of the situation or the man behind me. I feel alive, excited, aroused, anticipating pleasure, anticipating pain, and underlying all that; I feel calm. This must be the 'veil of content' washing over me, surrounding me. This is what it feels like to freely give everything to another person. This is my submission.

All contact is lost again, but this time for a much shorter time. Something is scratching my shoulder. It's the crop. He drags the edge of it across my back. I know he's looking at the scars on my back. He drags the crop over all three of them from the sunburst Dustin put on me. I can't keep the shiver from flowing through me.

The crop is between my shoulder blades, there is a gentle pressure pushing me forward. I bend at the waist and slowly lower myself until the pressure stops. I end up with my face and chest on the bed, my feet still dangling off the edge, and my ass high in the air. 

Hands and mouth are exploring my ass. Soft caress's and gentle bites pulling at my flesh. Every inch is touched over and over. A hand slips between my legs, I can feel how wet and ready I am for anything he chooses to take from me. He works his fingers between my soft folds in long, languid strokes, drawing my fire to a boil. 

All contact is lost again, and a small groan is pulled up out of my throat. I wait again, my fire slowing to a simmer. I don't move a muscle. 

A hand in my hair, then pulling at my scalp. With even, continuous pressure I'm pulled back into the kneeling position. Then I'm pulled even farther so I'm leaning back over my heels. In an instant his mouth is claiming mine. His other hand is roaming freely between my nipples and my clit. He's tugging on the chain, twisting and mauling my breasts one moment, and the next he's doing god-knows-what to my clit. I lose all control, by body writhing helplessly on the bed. I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. I want to grab him and pull him onto me, but my hands are held fast behind my back. Helpless, out of control, ready to explode. This is my submission to Marcus.

I'm pulled back to the kneel position. Then I'm left alone again. I'm panting hard. My body is trembling. The blindfold is soaking up my tears. "Please. Marcus. Please." Those are the only thoughts I can form. Those are the only words I can make. "Please." Nothing. Nothing happens. I wait. Begging.

The bed moves. It sinks down somewhere in front of me. I wait, trembling. A hand comes and cups my breast, hefting it, a thumb running over my cold, clamped nipple. The leash is taken, and I feel my first tug on the collar, leading me forward. Without my arms for balance, I struggle forward on the soft bed until the pressure on the collar stops. The crop is placed on my left thigh and the leash is tugged again. I start crawling again, but the crop taps my thigh. I move my right leg forward until it bumps up against something, probably Marcus.

Again the leash tugs me forward. I balance on my left knee and try my best to swing my right over his body. I start falling, but Marcus catches me instantly, righting me and helping me straddle his thighs. His hands are on my knees; traveling up my legs, over my stomach to rest under my breasts. Warm, strong hands start playing with me; squeezing my breasts and shaking them, the chain between my nipples jangling everywhere. His mouth is on them now, nipping and licking and sucking the cold, hard nubs. My hips start rocking back and forth. 

Marcus abandons my tits and lies down. I wait again. "Please Marcus. Please use me. Please." There's tapping on my ass, not hard, just tapping. I shuffle higher up his body until I feel something banging against my belly. I lean forward, trying to press into it, but I get a tap across my shoulder and the collar is tugged up. I straighten my back, but I can't keep my hips from rocking. What's he waiting for?

He starts banging his cock against my tummy. It takes all my willpower to stay as still as I possibly can. This isn't what I want him to be doing with his cock, but I can understand that he might be appreciating the visual. "Please Marcus."

My collar is pulled until my face is right over his, I can feel his warm breath on my lips. His manhood is pressed into my abdomen. Soft and slow our lips meet, his tongue teasing mine. With his hands on my thighs, he lifts my ass up. When I'm high enough, he takes the thick tool between his legs and runs it between mine, searching for the entrance to my core. He finds it and the tip of his cock slips in easily. I automatically try pressing down, but my ass is instantly slapped and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth. I freeze. We wait like this for a few moments before he releases my lip. Come on, please fuck me already. "Please."

The leash is flipped over my shoulder and I'm pulled upright. His cock slips a little bit further inside me. "Please." The leash is pulled straight down and I slowly sink down on his thick, hard masculinity. 

With my other senses disabled, the few I have left are exaggerated. The smell of my sex is wafting toward me, tart and tangy. The taste of Marcus's kiss is lingering on my lips. The stretching of my cunt is on the edge of painful and I relish every twinge inside me. With the leash and crop he controls me, like a marionette on strings. He uses taps on the back of my thighs, tugs on the collar, and the chain connecting the nipple clamps to move my body in any way he pleases. 

I am exhausted from dancing all night and my leg muscles are burning with the effort of obeying every silent command. My mouth is open, gulping in as much oxygen as I can. He's had me on the edge of orgasm so many times tonight I just need that little extra shove to get me over the top. "Please Marcus. Please whip me. I need the pain. Please let me cum. I'm yours. Please use me. Hurt me. Please I need to cum. Please. Whip me Marcus, please."

Everything stops. No. Not again. He can't stop again. I won't make it. "Please. I'm sorry. Please Marcus. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me like this. Please. I'll do anything. Please." 




Just Curious Ch. 10



I watch as her body relaxes into sleep. As gently as I can, I remove the blindfold, the earplugs, and the handcuffs, tossing them onto the floor. My little minx. I decide to leave the collar on, but I unclip the leash and toss it on the floor also. I watch her for a long time. First her face nuzzles into my neck. Then she rolls over, pressing her hands against my chest. I have to chuckle as her leg wiggles its way between mine. I lift my leg enough to let hers slip between them. She lets out a small contented sigh, and settles in for a deep sleep. 

An inexperienced, untrained pain slut. The possibilities are running through my mind. My responsibilities toward her are next. Followed by all those damn promises I had to make to Jared. Stupid little fucker. He has no right to dictate how I use her. He's not her father. He's not her master. I close my eyes as I try to clear my thoughts. I wrap my arms around her and she makes a little cooing sound in her sleep. There's so much I want to do with her. To her. Just over two days remain and a laundry list of 'can't do/don't do's' from Jared make my options limited. We have to be up in two hours and I could use a nap. I close my eyes and settle in, drifting off the sleep with a gorgeous redhead wrapped in my arms.

Chapter 10  (Thursday)

Awwww. What the fuck is that? DEET DEET DEET DEET As I start to turn away from the noise, the earth starts moving under me. Well, now I'm awake. DEET DEET DEET DEET It's Marcus. Grumbling, he curls his arm around me so he can get at the offending watch. DEET DEET DE... I'm lying almost on top of him now. He starts shifting and stretching. When he moves his leg, my skin sticks to his. I look under the covers. Ahh gross. We're stuck together. "That's nasty!"

Marcus laughs. "Sorry little minx. You were fast asleep within minutes, and I just didn't have the energy to clean us up." With a little maneuvering, we get ourselves separated. It's question time again. I don't hesitate to answer them. I found it best to answer with the first thing I think of. Why did I come to his room? What did I expect when I knocked on the door? How did it feel to wear a collar? (My hand reached up to touch the soft leather still around my neck as I answered.) Did I enjoy the blindfold? The earplugs? Did it make the experience more or less intense? Etc. Etc. 

My head is resting on his chest when he's finally satisfied. "I was very happy with you last night. You were spectacular." He kisses the top of my head.

"Do I get a reward?" I've wanted to ask him something, but I'm not sure how.

Pfft. "No! Not after the panty incident. God those were awful. Whoever invented underwear should be shot, set on fire, ground up, and fed to goldfish." I giggle, assuming whoever that was is long dead already. Marcus works the collar around so he can remove it and tosses it on the floor.

We lie together quietly for a while, neither of us willing to get out of bed yet. "Why did you ask for a reward? If you want something, you can always ask." He pets my hair gently. "Although begging would be preferable." I don't have to see him to know he's smirking.

I'm not sure I can ask yet. He doesn't pressure me. We just lie there as the minutes tick by. He's still petting my hair. "Marcus. Can you, I mean.... Marcus, do you want to fuck my ass?" There. I said it. Now I feel like an idiot.

The room is deathly silent. He's stopped playing with my hair. "What?"

"I'm sorry. Nevermind." God, I'm such a moron. 

He's moving out from under me, hoisting himself up on his elbow so he can look down at me. "Don't be sorry. I just wasn't sure I heard you correctly. Did you just ask for anal sex?"

I knew I should have just kept my mouth shut. With a hand on my chin he pulls it until I'm looking up at him. "Don't be ashamed to ask for anything you think you need or want. We're exploring your sexuality here, so you have a say in what goes on. Tell me again. Please."

He doesn't seem mad or shocked. I take a deep calming breath. "When I was with Dustin he was going to do it. He had these things in me."

"Anal Plugs. They're used to stretch the sphincter and the anal canal to make penetration easier on both parties." 

"Yeah. Anal plugs. He had Harper put in different sizes while he was away. When he came back he was going to do it. But he didn't. I guess. I don't know. I think I want to try it. I heard that it hurts, but I trust you. I don't think you'd hurt me. I don't know." I'm babbling so I stop talking altogether. 

Marcus can tell I'm embarrassed. He kisses me and thanks me for telling him what I want. "Let me think about this, OK. We only have two days left. I'm not saying 'no', but I just can't answer you right now." He rolls off the bed and helps me up. Uggh Everything is sore. And sticky. Marcus gives me a fairly thorough inspection, looking for bruises or scratches. "I have to go in to work this morning. Which means it's shower time for you. I want you squeaky clean, got it?"

"Yes Marcus." He spins me toward the door, and spanks my ass. I head for the door, but stop when I see a bunch of stuff on the floor. I scoop up the crop, the handcuffs, the blindfold, the earplugs, the collar and the leash and place them on the nightstand. I turn to see Marcus watching me, he's smiling. I turn and head out the door to my bedroom to take a shower. I didn't know it at the time, but that would be the last night I would be put to sleep in 'my room'. 

The shower is cool and refreshing. I scrub the remnants of last night off my thighs and stomach. I wash my hair and brush my teeth. There's no dress on the bed waiting for me, so I pad down the carpeted hallway to Marcus's room. I hear him talking with someone. He seems agitated, almost forcefully calm. I open the door and wait in the doorway.

"No. I told you already, I haven't broken my word. I'm asking you to rescind all those damn stipulations you put on me. You're doing her more harm than good."

He showered and dressed in a casual suit, his wet hair still spiky in places. I watch as he paces back and forth in his bare feet, listening to the other person on the phone. "I'm not putting ideas in her head. Jesus, you're paranoid! How do you think she feels when she asks for something, which is hard enough in a situation like this, and I have to make up some stupid excuse or ignore her?"

More pacing. He sees my reflection in the mirror. His face it unreadable as he goes back to pacing. I step into the room. I think this is about me. "No. No. No. You're not her father. You're not her master. What gives you the right..." His pacing becomes shorter and faster. He hasn't kicked me out so I walk to the foot of the bed and kneel on the floor. I don't know why I did that, it just felt right. I watch as the conversation goes on. Is he talking to Dustin?

"I understand that you care about her. She's very special. But you're not helping her. I'm frustrated. She's frustrated. I've taken her as far as I can, and she's barely begun to shine. I'm asking you to trust me. I will not harm her. I swear it. But you need to rescind the demands you made on me. For her sake."

He sits down on the bed as the other person is talking to him. He puts his hand on my head leaning me into his thigh. I can feel the warmth on my cheek through the soft material. 

He sounds exasperated. "Jared, you're focusing on what you want, not what she needs. Think about your friend. She is safe. She is cared for. I promise you that. And she is just starting to come out of her shell. She's made huge progress." This makes complete sense now. This is something Jared would do. Marcus doesn't have a chance in hell to change Jared's mind. I reach up and place my hand over his. He takes the phone away from his ear.

I mouth the word 'please' to him and hold up my hand for the phone. I know Jared. I know he thinks he knows best, and how stubborn he is defending what he thinks he knows. Marcus won't be able to talk him down. Marcus hands me the phone, watching me silently. I make my voice as calm as possible. "Jared?" Marcus places his hand on my head again, petting my wet hair.

I listen as Jared goes on a full blown rant. I interrupt him after only a few moments. "Jared. Listen to me." I wait as the other side goes silent. "You have to let me go, Jared. Please. You have to let me go." 

That's all I need to say. I hand the phone back to Marcus. "It's me again. ... No, I didn't force her to say that. I told you already, you're paranoid."

The conversation goes on; it looks like Marcus is getting what he wants. The only thing Jared still insists on is that I am on a plane Saturday morning heading home. Marcus swears to this several times, but it looks like Marcus gets everything else he wanted. The conversation ends and Marcus hangs up.

He just stares at me for the longest time. "What are you thinking, girl?"

"I don't want to go home yet." 

He gets a sad smile; we both know what he promised Jared. "Did you mean what you said this morning? Do you really want to have anal sex?"

So apparently that was one of Jared many conditions. "I'm curious. And a bit scared. But I trust you. I know you won't hurt me. Well, not too much anyway."

He rubs a hand over his face. "I need more time." I don't think he was saying that to me, he just said it out loud. "We only have two days, did you want to try it today, or wait for tomorrow? Today would be a little bit more intense preparation wise, but if we wait till tomorrow and you enjoy it, we won't have much chance to do it again. What do you think?"

"Enjoy it? I never thought if I'd enjoy it or not. I just wanted to try it. What do you think is best?"

"It's up to you. And yes, some women enjoy anal sex. There are pros and cons for both, but you haven't disappointed me yet. And no matter what you decide, you won't disappoint me this time. We'll make the best of whatever you decide."

I don't want to be nervous about this any longer than absolutely necessary. "Today then. Let's do it today." I watch his face to see if he's happy, but I still can't read him.

"OK. Give me a sec. We need some stuff." He goes out of the room and I wait there on the floor. He comes back quickly with a small box, a tube of something, and a black dress. He sits on the floor next to me and flips open the box. As expected, it's four anal plugs. These are gloss black with a shiny silver swirl through them. "I need your ass. Put your face on the floor right there." I turn away from him and place my face where he pointed. 

His hands are on my ass, and soon a gooey, slippery finger is circling my anus. He's talking to me, describing everything he's doing and why. He tells me to exhale and relax. I do, and he presses a finger inside my ass. Repeatedly he does this, sometimes adding more lube. He tells me to relax again, and it feels like a second finger is added. That one causes me to groan. "Breath for me, baby. Good girl." 

He works the two fingers in me several more times. I watch him reach for the smallest plug. He squirts some lube on it. "OK, here we go. Breath and exhale." I take a deep breath, exhale, and try to relax. I jerk when the cold plug touches my skin. Marcus calms me with his voice and his hands. The pressure increases until the plug pops in my ass. "All done. Can you sit up?"I struggle to my knees. That's damn uncomfortable. "You OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. It just feels weird." 

"Come on. Let's get you dressed. I'm late and we have to get to work." I wait as Marcus finishes getting dressed.

He picks a black dress from the closet and starts putting it on me. My dress is broken. There is no other way to describe it. It's broken. It's a strapless tube dress. On the top, there's a solid V-shaped strip of black material barely covering my nipples and plunging down to cover my crotch. There's a rectangular strip covering my ass. The rest of the 'dress' is ripped strands of black. The dress stops about mid thigh on me. It looks like a very slinky black dress that was attacked by a weed whacker. "You gotta be kidding me?" He can't seriously expect me to wear this out in public. 

"Watch you tone, little minx. The punishments available to use on you just got a lot more interesting."

"I'm sorry Marcus, it's just this is very skimpy and I don't feel comfortable in this."

"We're not going anywhere this would be considered inappropriate. And you look beautiful. Back straight, chin up. We have to go." Discussion over. He leads me to the parking garage and he drives over to the brothel from Monday. It's not too horrible riding around with the butt plug in; not fun, but not horrible either. We wait for the gate to open then parks in the reserved spot and we head inside. I'm carrying the box with the plugs in it.

Elliot is there again, wearing another sharp looking suit. "Good morning, sir. Welcome back." He nods at me as he looks me over from top to bottom. I think I would be more comfortable being nude than wearing this dress. Marcus and Elliot share a look, and Marcus is immediately in a bad mood. "You gotta be kidding me? Seriously?"

Elliot just shrugs and Marcus growls as we head into his office. "How's the plug?"

"It's not too bad. It doesn't hurt anyway."

"Good, we'll try the next size then. Bend over the desk."

Oh joy. Elliot has followed us into the room. I put the box down on the desk near Marcus. I lean over and rest my head and chest on the desk. Then I wait. Marcus has found some lube, not surprising, this is a brothel. He takes out the next size plug and lubes it up. Elliot pipes up. "Ummm, boss. I thought that was off limits." Marcus flips my dress up over my ass.

He replies as he's tugging out the first plug from my ass. "I had a talk with Jared this morning." I feel him kissing me down my spine and it sends a shiver through me. "There has been some 'change of plans' that should prove interesting." That's his cue to start pressing the larger plug into my ass. With constant, ever increasing pressure he presses the hard cold object against my anus. He tells me to relax, but it's very hard when he's trying to shove a plug in there. I clench my ass closed, but eventually the pressure is too much and it slips in with a grunt.

"That wasn't a very auspicious beginning. You sure she's up for this?" Why does Elliot make this sound like a normal everyday occurrence? 

"She is. She won't disappoint. Besides, I want to get this in before we leave this afternoon. So there's a time crunch involved. Stay put little girl. I'll be right back." Marcus and Elliot head into the corner to have a private discussion. He didn't even put my dress down. I wait there, watching them talk. My exposed ass is relaxing into the sensation of having something stuffed inside it. Again, it's not painful, more uncomfortable than anything.

*********

Marcus stalks to the far corner first, Elliot is right behind him. "Seriously? You're serious. He didn't pay?"

Elliot forces himself to remain calm. He knows better than to add to Marcus's aggression. "Completely serious, sir. No one has seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"Fuck. I didn't need this today. We got people on the family?"

"Yes sir. The kids are at a music camp until noon, and the wife is getting her hair done. The house is empty otherwise."

"Shit. OK, I'll deal with it this afternoon. Do you have people and a place ready?" Marcus isn't happy. He glances back at his girl, just to make sure she hasn't moved. It would be interesting to punish her now that the restrictions are lifted.

"Yes sir. Six men are standing by and we're using the old weapons house on the east side. It has a below-ground cellar if they're bad and some video game systems in the living room if they're good."

"Good choice. I'll do the pick-up. I've met JeAnna before; she seemed to have a good head on her. If I can convince her this is her best option, it'll be easier on the kids." Marcus runs his hand through his hair in frustration.

"What about the girl?" Elliot glances behind him; she's still bent over the desk.

"She's got two more plugs to assimilate. I'll break her in after that. Keep room 301 open for me around noon. I like the lighting in that room. Otherwise the plans should remain unchanged. You'll take her to the movies until I'm done, then we'll see if she lets you fuck her. 

"Wearing that to the movies should be interesting." Elliot can't help but laugh.

"It's mostly locals, they all know you. No one will fuck with her, and if they do, I trust you'll take care of it efficiently. Keep her aroused and on edge, but don't let her cum. I also want you to treat her like an object; property. I want to know how she reacts to that. Don't degrade her or humiliate her. I don't want her to feel ashamed, just treat her like a cherished object. Remind her she belongs to me and is mine to do with as I please."

"Yes sir. I'll keep her safe and horny for you."

Marcus lightly punches his shoulder. "Don't enjoy yourself to much, she's mine, remember. Oh, I forgot. Could you order me an omelet?"

"Yes sir."

*********

The men finish their discussion and come back towards me. Marcus helps me up, puts my dress back in place, then hands me over to Elliot. Elliot leads me out of the office, and just like Monday, I'm strung up from the ceiling. He steps back and admires me for a few moments. Then he steps up and tweaks my nipples until they're hard and poking through the thin fabric. "Much better. Remember, eyes down; mouth closed. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

About half an hour later a delivery guy arrives with a white paper bag. Elliot pays him and he stumbles out the room, he can't stop staring at me. Elliot takes the bag in to Marcus's office then comes out and lowers me to my feet. I'm unchained and led into the office. There's an omelet, an English muffin, and some fruit on the desk. Marcus motions me over to the desk. I walk over and stand next to his chair. "Kneel."

This time I don't really think about it. I just swallow my pride and drop to my knees. He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "Good girl." He starts eating and feeding me bites of food. He types on the computer and makes phone calls while we eat. When the food is gone, he packs all the garbage into the white bag. He tells me to throw it away and present myself to Elliot.

Just getting dismissed like that hurts. It took so much to kneel there and be fed, and he just sends me away. I rise silently, without help, and throw the bag in the garbage can by the door. I look back at him, but he's engrossed with whatever is on the screen in front of him. I go to Elliot and he strings me back up. 

I hang there probably about an hour. Men come and go, each one checking me out as he walks by. Elliot lowers me twice during that time to ease the pressure off my wrists and shoulders. I'm released and he walks me back into the office. Marcus is on the phone, so Elliot guides me to the desk and presses down on the back of my neck until I'm bent over the desk. I wait until the phone call is over. Then we go through the process of upgrading my butt plug. More lube is added and Marcus stretches me with his fingers before inserting the third size plug. He talks me through this one, telling me to relax. It pops in and sits snuggly in my ass. I can't believe I actually asked for this. I'm an idiot. I have trouble standing, so Marcus has to help me. When I stand up straight is feels almost like a cramp in my gut. I try to walk hunched over, but he won't let me. "Stand up straight, little girl. I know it's uncomfortable, but you have to learn to bear it. Accept it. Embrace it." 

I'm strung back up. The cramping gets worse. Marcus watches me process the new sensations. He kisses me and starts back to his office. "Elliot, help her relax a little, won't you? But don't let her cum."

"Yes boss." Marcus disappears around the corner as Elliot stalks toward me. I try backing up, but my toes barely touch the ground. He runs his hand down my neck and between my breasts. "I love this dress on you. It draws the eyes to all the right places. Very sexy." He cups my breasts and plays with my nipples through the fabric. A man comes down the hallway toward us. Elliot returns to the podium to process him and send him up the staircase. 




Just Curious Ch. 10



He comes back to me. My nipples are still hard. He cups my mound, pressing the soft material between my folds. "Yeah. I really like this dress." He leans in and starts sucking and biting my nipples as he swipes aside the now damp material covering my crotch and places two fingers directly on my clit. 

My breathing comes in short sharp gasps as he expertly works my clit and nipples. My back arches as he bites down a little harder. "Good girl." He draws me higher and higher, the plug in my ass all but forgotten. "Look at me. Come on, girl. Look at me. Good girl. You know you don't have Marcus's permission to cum, right?" 

I'm still panting. I look into his eyes; they seem so white against his dark skin. I hear some men coming down the hall. "Yes sir."

"That means your body won't cum, no matter how much you beg." He turns to look at the men. "Good morning gentlemen. If you don't mind, this will only be a short delay." The men say they don't mind waiting. Elliot keep fingering me and sucking my tits until a shiver travels through me. He stops. I knew he would, but the suddenness of it was still shocking.

"Please, sir. Please."

"Such a good submissive you are. Marcus is a lucky man to command you, even if it is for a short time. Eyes down, mouth closed. Be a good girl." I grunt as he smacks my ass directly on the plug and tugs the bottom part of the dress back in place. He leads the men to the podium and processes them. One of them asks if I'm available. I clearly hear him tell the men I am 'the bosses property' before they pay and head up the staircase to the upper rooms. 

Another hour goes by. Men come and go. Pictures are brought to Elliot, and the same woman from Monday returns other photos to the front. Slowly the cramping pressure diminishes, but I'm never allowed to forget there's a plug shoved up there.

Again I'm lowered and taken to the office. I wait by the desk. His eyes rove over my body as he talks on the phone. When he's done he walks behind me and bends me over the edge of the desk. I squeal as he smacks my ass several times. He lifts my dress up over my ass and starts biting and sucking on the reddening globes. "You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to this. How much I'm going to enjoy using your ass." He steps back and snaps a few pictures. He opens the box and takes out the last and largest plug. I watch as he lubes it up good. 

He takes my hair and pulls my head back hard. He jams his knee between my legs. "Listen up, girl. I'm going to talk you through this last plug. You do as I say, when I say, in a way you think will please me the most, understand?"

He shakes my head for emphasis. "Yes Marcus." The control he has over me is somehow erotic. 

He leans over and whispers darkly in my ear. "If you hesitate, or disobey me, I will punish you. Worse than anything you've felt from me. Your tits are mine. Your cunt is mine. And soon, your ass will belong to me. Mine. Your body is mine to use. I will take whatever pleasure I want from you, and you will beg for more. You need to be controlled. You crave the dominance I have over you. You exist to submit. It's your nature. Now beg me for the last plug."

Any little spark of resistance I might have had disappears. The more control he exerts, the more I need to give him. The words start flowing out of me, and I'm surprised to realize I mean every one of them. "Please Marcus. Please put the last plug in me. I want to feel you in my ass. I want to give you everything. Please. Use me, Marcus. Anything you want is yours. Please."

He leans over me and presses his body along mine. I feel his weight pressing down on me, covering me. He kisses my ear and coos in my ear. He stands back up and he tugs on the plug currently embedded in my ass. "Give me a push, girl. Don't squeeze your ass, just push."

I take a deep breath and start pushing. Marcus tugs and with a groan the plug pops out. I feel a momentary sense of relief and relax. "I want you to put your hands on your ass and open up for me." Shaking, I reach behind me and place my palms on my ass. I press down and pull my cheeks apart. "Good girl. Now press your index fingers into your ass and pull them apart, as much as you can." I crawl my fingers together. It feels so weird slipping the tips of my two fingers into my own ass. I take another breath and start pulling the fingers apart, opening my anus. 

I feel Marcus moving behind me, and a few more snaps of the camera. He starts rubbing my clit as I stay as still as possible. "God, you are so fucking sexy." I can't help squirming as my core starts to heat up. With his other hand, he presses the last plug against my anus. "Take a deep breath, relax your ass, and over and over I want you to beg me to fuck your ass." Another deep breath, it's hard, and I'm not completely successful, but I try to relax as much as possible. "Please Marcus. Please fuck my ass. My ass is yours to use. Please." Slowly he's pressing the plug inside me. Eventually it pops in and I breathe a sigh of relief. But Marcus isn't done yet. He tugs and twists until the plug comes out and starts the process all over again. "Beg!" 

For the next several minutes, Marcus works me over with the butt plug relentlessly. Over and over he pulls it out and pushes it back in. The whole time I'm begging for it. Begging for the plug. Begging for him to fuck me. When he's had enough he presses himself against my ass. "See how hard you make me? Do you know how badly I want to plunder every hole you have? I love using this body, every inch of it." 

With a hand in my hair he pulls me off the desk. "Kneel." I let out a groan as my body crumples to the floor. The plug is huge and very uncomfortable. He stands in front of me and kicks my knees farther apart. He opens his pants and pulls out the long hard cock I seem to crave constantly. "Service me."

Without hesitating, I suck and slobber all over his shaft, sucking on his balls, and running my tongue over every inch of him. His scent is making me horny. God, I love that musky, tangy smell. When I hear him groan for the first time, I try to swallow him. The groan catches in his throat. Inwardly, I'm smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I'm the one making him hard. I'm the one making him groan. I'm the lucky one on my knees sucking his cock. 

Someone enters and clears their throat. "Boss. Kyle and Mr. G are here."

He grumbles before he answers. "Get them a drink in the bar. I'll be done in a bit."

"Yes sir." I hear the door closing as Elliot leaves the room.

"Swallow me now." I press him back into my mouth. When the head reaches the back of my throat I swallow and press him deeper. I can only hold it for a second or two before I start gagging. I pull back, take a breath, and do it all over again. After several tries, Marcus entwines his fingers in my hair. In that one simple move, control is taken away from me. I let Marcus use me until my mouth is filled with his cum. I swallow as much as I can, but I feel some spilling down my chin. He pulls out and towers over me triumphantly. I wipe my face with my hand. "Clean me." 

I understand the command, but the 'oddness' of it catches me off guard. I hesitate for a split second then start licking him clean. He tucks his cock away when I'm finished and pulls me to my feet. He kisses me then pulls me into a long embrace. "Tell me how you ass feels."

This sounds like a serious medical question, so I consider my body for a second. "It feels 'tight'. My ... um hole and the inside is tight."

He makes a tsk tsk tsk noise. "No goody two-shoe girly-girly words. If you can't even talk about it, maybe you're not ready to experience it. You have an anus, a sphincter, an anal canal, and a rectum. Use the words properly, girl. Vagueness and miscommunications could cause problems. There's nothing wrong with anal sex. It's only taboo if you make it so."

"I'm sorry, Marcus. The plug is very tight in my anus; I can feel it stretch to accommodate the plug. It doesn't hurt, but I can feel a hardness in my rectum. It was painful when you first put in the final plug, but now it's just more uncomfortable."

"Do you feel any sharp pains, like tearing?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Any spasms, like uncontrollable clenching?"

"No sir." Marcus glares at me instantly. I quickly try to figure out what happened. I called him sir. "I'm sorry, Marcus. Everyone calls you 'sir', it just slipped out."

"I'll punish you for that tonight. OK, it's 10:45. We'll let that plug work for an hour, then get you cleaned out. How does that sound?"

"That sounds fine, Marcus. Thank you."

He gets a big grin on his face. "You are very welcome, little one." He leads me out to reception area. Elliot goes to get the men in the bar as Marcus strings me up. He's fixing my dress as Elliot returns. After greeting the men, they go into his office and I'm left with Elliot.

The time goes by slowly. Elliot lowers me at intervals, and plays with me whenever he has a few spare minutes, which seems to be quite often today. I just watch the feet of different people walking by, most of them stopping to look at me. A few are scolded by Elliot when they try to touch me, but none question him or try to touch me a second time. My nerves are working on overdrive. What if this hurts like hell? Can I back out of this? Why did I open my mouth in the first place? Can I do this? Will he enjoy me?

Marcus comes out of the office, stretching his back, his strong arms high above his head. I hear some joints cracking, then he has a short discussion with Elliot before both men turn to look at me. Elliot hands him a key card and he comes over to lower me. He unchains me and wordlessly turns to walk up the stairs. I watch him go for a few steps, then silently rush to follow along behind him. My fate is sealed. 

My heart is racing as I catch up to him on the first landing. He takes my hand and we go up the staircase to the third floor. I'm so nervous it's getting hard to breath. I know I'm squeezing his hand very hard, but I can't seem to stop. He doesn't pull his hand away. 

Together we walk down the long hall. I'm not even sure I could tell you the color of the walls or the floor at this point; panic is setting in. I press closer to Marcus, he always seems so strong maybe I can steal some of it from him. We stop in front of the door at the very end of the hall. Room 301. Breathe. Just keep breathing.

Marcus swipes the card and opens the door for me. He waits for me to enter. I hear the door close ominously behind me. The first thing I notice are the large windows on one wall. It's made up of two large arches; the column down the middle is mirrored. Most of the room is either white or beige, making everything seem to glow in the sunlight. There's a large white bed in front of the windows. No headboard or footboard. "Strip."

I turn to look at him. His shirt is already off, and he's removing his socks and shoes. He seems so cold and distant today. As I try to get the dress off, I can't help but wonder if I did something wrong. 

"I said strip." He's standing, glaring at me.

"I'm sorry. I can't seem to get it off." That's true. There's nothing solid to grab onto to pull it. I tried slipping my arms inside, but I heard ripping sounds, so I stopped. He just smiles and chuckles darkly. "You always pick the simplest things to make difficult. Arms up, girl."

I can't. I just can't. I wrap my arms around my chest and back away from Marcus until I hit something solid. Marcus's eyes darken, as he lunges at me, pinning me to the wall. "Where do you think you're going? I said arms up."

"Stop." Oh my god! Did I just say that? To Marcus? Oh crap. Oh crap.

Marcus instantly takes a step back and watches me. I keep my back against the wall, shaking. "Talk to me. Why did you say 'stop'?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. I never quiet understood that quote, but it popped into my head. "You're scaring me. Did I do something wrong? You seem so cold and distant today. I don't feel safe with you anymore." 

He just watches me; it takes a long time before he speaks. I watch as his posture and mannerism slowly start to relax. He steps forward and puts a hand on my cheek. I'm already pressed against the door; I have nowhere else to go. "Shhh. Little girl. Shhhh. Do you remember when I said we would have to try different things this week, to see what you liked and what you didn't?" I nod my head yes, I remember that. He said I had to try things, even if I didn't really want to, just to experience them. "This was just one of those experiments. I was objectifying you. Treating you like an object, rather than a person."

I'm confused. "Like a pet or something?"

"Or something. I was treating you like a toy. Something to be played with. Letting others play with my toy." Well, that explains Elliot's hands-on attitude and the coldness from Marcus.

I wipe a tear away. "Well, I didn't like that. It was scaring me. I was terrified I did something wrong."

He starts laughing; like full blown, maniac laughing. He picks me up and starts spinning me around. I hold on for dear life. If he's gone insane, I'm in big trouble. We end up crashing on the bed. He rolls on top of me, grabs my wrists and pins me down. "Do you know what you just did? I am so proud of you." He kisses me. Then waits for me to answer.

I'm really confused now. "What? What are you talking about? Are you on drugs?"

He kisses me again, still smiling the crazy man smile. "No, I'm not on drugs. Surprisingly, I don't believe in them. But you! You stopped me. You said 'Stop'. Everything I put you through so far, you just accepted. Just like you did with Dustin. That is a very rare and very dangerous quality to have. If you, as a submissive, can't vocalize when you're in pain, or uncomfortable, or want to stop, that could lead to very dangerous situations."

"Like with Dustin?"

"No baby girl. You told Dustin to stop when you asked to go home. What happened to you was entirely his fault for not respecting the gifts you were giving him. What was scary was that you only asked once, never after that. You let him abuse you, well past your limits."

"But I took it. I took it all. I did it." I can't explain it, but I am proud of those scars on my back.

His smile saddens. "You did. You took it all. And you were scarred by it because it was too much." I'm about to argue there were only three small scars, but he stops me cold. "How many nightmares woke you up screaming before that experience? How many panic attacks have you had in your life? I'll bet money that none of them were before the abuse. Those are your scars. You were terrorized, and you didn't have a voice to speak up for yourself. Without that voice, you're looking at the exact same scenario over and over again. Men will push to find your limits... Don't look at me like that! Every dominant you meet will want to discover those limits for himself. Reading them off a piece of paper just isn't very much fun. If you don't tell him when you've reached those limits, you will get abused over and over again. You will get broken over and over again. You said it yourself: he could have killed you, and you would have let him do it. Without your voice, we would have had to keep you out of our world. Not to protect you, but to protect us."

"Is that what's wrong with me?"

"No baby-girl, there's nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. You had the strength to come here, even after everything you've been through. The strength to follow your heart. You had the insight to stop me when you were uncomfortable. A relationship like this, whether with me or someone else, requires trust at its heart. This whole week, you had nothing to go on but blind faith. And you did better than I could have ever expected. With all the confusion, all the uncertainty, all the extremes you've encountered this week, you sensed something was off, and spoke up. You spoke up. I am so proud of you. There is nothing wrong with you." 

He rolls off me, running his hand down my side. We sit in silence for a while, giving me time to consider everything he said. I watch the light stream through the huge windows. "So little one, what do you want to do next? Lunch? I could hang you back up downstairs."

"Ummm... I thought we were going to do ... ummm."

"Ummm what?"

If I can't say it, I can't do it. "I thought we were going to do the anal sex thing."

"You said stop. That means we stop."

What? He's not going to do it. Seriously? I've had plugs up my ass twice, and no one's fucked me there yet. "Wait a minute. I didn't say red light. Can't we still do the sex thing?"

His eyes are twinkling as he runs a solitary finger down my face and neck. "You said stop, so we stopped. I didn't hear you beg for anything after that." He runs his thumb over my lips and I kiss it. This man has a begging fetish. I wonder if there's a clinical diagnosis for that. 

I press my body against his. "Marcus, I want you to be the first man to take my ass. Please Marcus. Please fuck my ass. I'm yours to use. Anything you want is yours. Please Marcus. Please fuck my ass. Please." The kiss is first, followed by a growl that travels from his chest to my pussy. He pulls me off the bed and lifts the dress up and over my head, tossing it on the floor. The dress stands out obscenely; the only dark object in the white and beige room. 

Marcus just looks down at me, drinking in the sight of my body, offering him my submission. He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. I've had an enema before, so this is nothing surprising for me. He has me use the toilet as he prepares the bags, buckets and tubes. I'm bent over the bathroom counter, the tube is efficiently inserted. As the cramping starts, I wonder what it was like for his first time. How does a guy go about learning how to give enemas and whatever else is involved? Was he always this confident?? This self-assured? Was he always dominant?

I'm cleaned out twice, then a quick shower, without getting my hair wet. The plug is replaced. I'm actually less nervous now, than I have been all morning. Marcus is acting more like he normally does, and that puts me at ease. We move back to the bed. Marcus picks up the dress and tosses it by his clothes; apparently he didn't like dark spot on the floor either. We go over the red light / green light safety words in detail again. He makes me promise to use them if anything is wrong.

"Crawl up on the bed, little minx." I hop up and crawl to the center of the bed and wait, sitting on my knees. Marcus walks around me taking pictures. "Such a good girl. Come here." I kneel up and wobble to the edge of the bed near him. Several minutes of kissing and petting go by. I haven't been allowed to cum yet today, added to the nervous excitement of getting anal sex for the first time, so it doesn't take much to get me going. Marcus breaks the kiss. "It's time. Are you ready?"

"Yes Marcus. I want you to be the first man to use my ass."

Another quick peck on my nose. He grabs the pillows from the head of the bed and tosses them in the middle. "Face the windows, on your stomach, with the pillows underneath your hips." He helps get me into position. I have a glorious view of Vegas with the huge casinos in the distant background. I'm directly in front of the mirrored column between the windows. The image of a girl I don't completely recognize anymore looks back at me. "Give me your leg." I look behind me. He's by the corner, so I spread my right leg out toward him. From under the bed he pulls out a strap, and wraps a cuff around my ankle. He walks to my left side and does the same thing.

My wrists are secured the same way, until I'm spread eagle on the white bed. Marcus goes back to each limb and with a great tug, the restraints are pulled tight. Any wiggle room I might have had is now gone. I watch him through the mirror as he takes more pictures. He crawls up between my legs and kisses each ass cheek. He pulls lube out of his pocket and proceeds to prepare me. He squirts some in, and works the plug in and out a few times. More lube, this time dropped from higher up. The third time he's kneeling up. His eyes are twinkling as he watches me in the mirror. "Hey, I need that stuff. Please be careful."




Just Curious Ch. 10



"Don't trust me?" He raises his hand even higher.

"What if you miss? I could accidentally wiggle or something." I wiggle my ass until he starts laughing. He slaps me and I stop wiggling.

"Minx. Stay still." The third and last dollop of lube is added to my anus. He puts the plug back in for safekeeping. He runs his hands up and down my legs, kissing and biting my ass. 

He steps off the bed and I lose him in the mirror reflection. When he comes back into view of the narrow strip of mirror between the windows, my breath catches in my throat. I take in every inch of his large muscular torso, the many scars, the dark features, the way his eyes bore into my body, and the whip in his hands. He pulls the many strands through his fingers. Jared's restrictions are gone. I watch wide-eyed as the arm holding the whip is pulled back. I see the excitement and focus in his eyes. Almost in slow motion the arm comes down. The whoosh is heard before anything else. Then the sharp crack against the back of my thigh. My whole body tightens against the pain. It takes several moments before I can take another breath. By the time I do, the second stroke is coming down. The pain translates as light behind my eyes, my back arches, and my nipples harden instantly. "Look at me." I obey the command voice immediately. I watch, helplessly, in the mirror as four more strokes are brought down on my thighs, my ass, and my back.

He crawls between my stretched legs, tosses the whip on the side of the bed, and pulls the plug out of my ass. I hear the snap and zipper as he's opening his pants, then the heat of his cockhead against my anus. "Breathe." I obey. As I do, he slowly presses inside me. His hands press down on my waist to keep me still. The only sound is Marcus breathing and a small whimper from me. 

"Good girl. The worst is over. Just breathe for me, baby girl. Just breathe." I take another gasping breath, and he sinks deeper inside me. My hands are twisted tightly around the bedding.

"Holy shit. Is it in yet?" He smacks my reddening ass. "No swearing. And no, I'm not in yet. How are you doing?"

"I feel like there's a log being shoved up my ass." Another small grunt as he leans forward to kiss my shoulder blade.

He gives a small dark laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment. Just don't squeeze, OK? You could get hurt that way. Red light or green light?

I try to shift to find a more comfortable position, but the straps hold me tight. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Green light." Almost instantly he sinks in a bit more. Uuuunnnggggg. 

It's not too painful, but there's this sensation of pressure that I've never felt before. Every fiber of my being wants to push. I've never had a baby, but I would imagine it would feel something like this. A large hand is running up and down my spine. Marcus is whispering encouragements in my ear. His eyes locked on mine through the mirror. I can only squeeze for so long, and every time I relax, more of his hard cock sinks into me until I feel the warmth of his hips against my ass. "Good girl. Such a good girl. Keep breathing for me. Good girl. How are you doing?"

I'm trying to stay calm and breathe easy. "UUnnngggg." OK, that's wasn't what I was intending to say, but he shifted his weight right as I was going to speak. "My anus burns, I think from stretching. I don't think it tore or anything. There's this pressure in my gut. It feels like my intestines are getting moved around. I just want to push it out."

"Good girl. Very good. The hardest part is over. I just need you to try and relax for this next part."

"Next part. There's a next part?" 

"Yeah baby. Just keep breathing for me. You're doing so good. I'm very proud of you." With that, he slowly starts pulling out. I try to curl into a ball, but the restraints keep me firmly in place. The pressure instantly turns to suction. It feels like my guts are going to get pulled out. My ass lifts up off the bed, trying to keep him inside.

"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god." Marcus pulls out until just the tip remains inside me. 

More dark laughter. "I'm not a god, but I do enjoy the sound of a woman worshipping me." He pulls out and drips more cool gel into my asshole. Then we repeat the whole thing all over again. Slowly he presses into me, and just as slowly he pulls out. The whole time, he's talking to me, consoling me, praising me, and instructing me. I wouldn't say it gets easier, but it does get more tolerable. 

I'm doing it. I'm actually doing it!

"Are you ready to cum, my little minx?" His cock is still smoothly and evenly sliding in and out of my ass.

"Please. Please Marcus. Please let me cum." I would give anything right now for an orgasm. Anything. 

His pace picks up. I have less time to adjust to the two very different sensations coming from my ass. I feel a hand reach under me and start working my clit. My body jumps at first contact. "Just relax. Breathe. Let me use you. You are safe. You are cherished. I control your body. I control your orgasm. Just relax and breathe."

"Why do you keep telling me to breathe?" 

"Because you keep stopping." No I don't. Do I? That was the last coherent thought I remember having. Everything is on a collision course. The helplessness of being in restraints, under a man who could, and has, easily overpowered me. The beautiful vista through the windows and the erotic image of a girl bound to the bed. The pressure in my ass and the burning from the whip marks on my pale flesh. The fingers on my clit, driving me closer and closer to the edge of the earth. 

"Breathe. You have to breathe."

I obey. There isn't a muscle in my body that wouldn't obey his every word right now. I gasp in a deep breath and explode. 

*********

Marcus is looking down at me, slapping my face lightly. "Look at me. Good girl. You OK? Talk to me." I take a mental check of my body, it feels happy.

I try to move, but I'm not very successful. "What'd you do to me? What happened?"

"You kept holding your breath. I think you passed out. Are you OK?" He's holding my head by my hair, keeping my airway open. His hand caressing me, calming me.

One hand is behind my back, with the other I give him a thumbs up. Then I start giggling. Uncontrollable, unexplainable, unstoppable giggling. He looks down at me, perplexed. He doesn't try to stop me or ask me any questions. He just watches, and waits, and runs a calming hand down my side. 

The giggles die down until just a huge grin is on my face. "Girl! Are you OK? Answer me." He's serious again.

"Yes. Yes. YES!" I start pounding my arms and legs up and down on the bed. Some move and some don't. "Can we do it again? Please. Wait, why don't my arms and legs move?"

"You brat. You're only half untied. After you passed out, I needed to roll you over. You scared the crap out of me." I hear the word 'crap' after what we just did, and I start giggling again. 

"You're a naughty girl."

"Yes."

He cups one of my breasts, nuzzling his cheek against it. "I should punish you, but you're so fucking cute."

"Yes."

"You're a brat." He rolls a nipple between two fingers.

"Yes."

"Are you just going to keep saying 'yes' over and over?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes." More giggling.

"My little minx. You're incorrigible." He's moving to release the straps on my right wrist and ankle.

I cup his face with my free hand. "I'm yours Marcus. Anything you want, the answer will be 'yes'. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes."

"For less than 48 hours." He has all four of my limbs released. "We have less than two days."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "I don't want to go."

"I feel the same, but that is non-negotiable. 11:27AM Saturday morning your flight leaves, and you have to be on it. You have to go home."

"Yes Marcus." He holds me for a while, but we both know we have to leave the bed eventually. We can't stay here.

Once I start moving, I find my whole body is sore. My wrists, shoulders, back, legs, stomach, and ass are all complaining in one form or another. Marcus helps me to the bathroom and showers me. He dries me and helps me slip the dress on. "Did you cum?"

"No baby, I didn't. This was about you. I had to make sure you were safe and satisfied."

He escorts me out the third floor brothel room, but instead of making me walk the staircase, we take a hidden elevator down. Elliot follows us into Marcus's office. I'm laid gently on a soft leather sofa, and the two men go to Marcus's desk to talk quietly.

"How'd she do?"

"Perfectly. Absolutely perfect. Anyone seen that idiot yet, or is he still M.I.A.?"

"We have the word out from New York to L.A.; we're pulling in or questioning everyone he might have dealings with. No one's seen him since yesterday."

"When do they get home?"

Elliot looks at his watch. "About half and hour. Sims will call when they're in the house." Sims is the resident chameleon. He can fit in at a hoity-toity art show or be sent to question the homeless, and anything in between. That man can talk his way in or out of anything.

"OK, we'll wait for the call, then I'll go deal with this. You take her to the movies. Keep her aroused and let her get used to you. No non-consensual stuff. And go lightly on the objectification. She didn't like it when it got cold, but I still want to see how she reacts to you treating her like a toy. And try to keep her awake, we didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"Yes, boss. I'll come get you when we get the call." Elliot leaves. There's a woman working the podium now as he has other things to prepare. All seems calm and quiet as everyone involved waits for the phone call.

*********

I'm curled up on a sofa when someone gently shakes me awake. I groan a little then turn to see what Marcus wants now. "What?" It wasn't who I was expecting.

It's Elliot, I look around for Marcus. "He's not here right now. He had to go take care of something. You have been left in the fine hands of one Elliot Sitton." He bows extravagantly. He helps me sit up and I groan again. Everything is sore. "You should use the bathroom before we go." 

I'm escorted to the bathroom and left alone for a few minutes. I try to fix the mess of red hair on top my head. I can just tell people I'm going for the 'wild' look today. With this dress, they would believe me. It's still broken, but I try to at least straighten it so my important bits are covered. I wash my face and hands. I also find some mouthwash and use that. Elliot just opens the door and walks into the bathroom. "Thanks for knocking."

His eyes scowl. "Bend over." He has that same voice, the one that fully expects everyone to obey him. When I just stare at him, he puts his hand between my shoulders and presses me down over the counter. I get three hard slaps on my ass.

He pulls my hair so I'm looking at him through the mirror. "You will not disrespect me. You were given to me to watch over this afternoon. You will obey me. You will respect me. Understand?"

"Yes sir." He releases me and helps me stand. We look at each other in the mirror. His skin is so dark, and mine looks so pale in comparison. He leans in and sniffs my hair. "Come on. Let's go."

"Sir, where are we going?" Marcus said we wouldn't go anywhere to public with me wearing this dress.

"Someplace Marcus picked out. So no balking and don't give me any trouble about it."

We leave the brothel, and head out in Elliot's beat-up old Jeep. I have a hundred questions, but I keep them to myself. I'm not sure what he considers 'balking', so I figure it's better to be safe than sorry.

*********

The three white vans are turning down the cul-de-sac in a gated community. Marcus is being driven by Sims in the first van, and three men are in each of the two trailing vehicles. None of the men have cell phones or electronic devices on them. None of the men have ID on them. Tattoos are covered with long sleeve workman's shirts. Identical caps, latex gloves, and sunglasses finish off the uniforms. All men are armed with their weapon or weapons of choice.

The men silently exit the vehicles and two take up positions outside, the rest walk to the front door. Sims rings the bell, and they wait. A middle aged blonde woman answers the door. She is about to ask what they want when she recognizes Marcus. Instantly her face crumples. "Please. He's not here. I don't know where he is. Please don't do this." The men enter the house.

"JeAnna, this is our last option. David owes us money, and he's not paying. In fact, we're having trouble finding him, which only makes the situation worse. This is going to happen, and I'm sorry it has to involve you and the children. This wasn't our first choice, it was our last."

JeAnna is frantic to come up with an alternative. "I have money. You can have it. All of it. We can..."

"JeAnna, you don't have the kind of money we are owed." She's about to argue; To beg. "Ten point five four million." Her face drops, then the color blanches out of it. She's visibly shaking.

She whispers, not quite believing the number. "Ten Million? He lost ten million dollars?"

"JeAnna, do you have access to the account in the Cayman Islands?" From her confused reaction, she doesn't. "What about the gold in Dubai? Do you have access to that?" Tears are forming in her eyes, but she shakes her head that she doesn't.

"I'm sorry, JeAnna, but we have to take you and the children. It's the only way he'll pay."

"What if he doesn't pay?" She's worried for her kids. 

She hasn't screamed or struggled. She knew what was going on, but not how badly he was in for. She's not completely innocent, and she knows how this works. "David is already a dead man, that's can't be changed. We'll find him wherever he is. It's just a matter of time."

"What about us?"

"You'll be kept safe and comfortable, unless you resist, then not so much. If we can't find David, or if he is unable to repay us, you'll be kept no more than three or four days. At which time, we'll burn this house down and release you after that." 

"Please. This is my home too. My children's home."

"JeAnna. JeAnna. This house is insured for five million dollars. That along with what you have access to in the bank will buy the lives of you and your children."

JeAnna is shaking badly. Marcus puts a hand on her shoulder to calm her. "It's time to go. Your kids will follow you. If you're scared, they'll be scared. Be strong and they'll be less afraid. Call your children down now."

She looks around the room at all the calm, business-like men in her house. She doesn't have a lot of options right now. Damn her husband. "Kids! Kids, come down here. We have to go."

There's grumbling as two teenagers, come down the stairs, a boy around 15, and a girl around 13. "What's going on?" 

The mom convincingly explains they are going to see their dad. All electronic devices are left on the table by the front door after a bit of shouting. (You try getting an IPod away from a teenager). Everyone climbs into the vans. Sims takes Marcus back to the brothel, and the other two vans make their way to the old weapons house to wait.

*********

We drive toward the strip, but turn into a long alley before they get there. About half way through the narrow alley we turn into a parking lot on the left side. Huddled in the middle of several multi-storied buildings is a small one-story building next to a parking lot that holds about 40 cars max. There are maybe a dozen cars here now. I look to Elliot and he's taking off his safety belt and exiting the Jeep. He walks around the front and opens my door. I really don't want to get out dressed like this. Elliot sees me hesitate, and I think I'm in trouble. Would he spank me in the parking lot? "You're safe here. It's a small theater. Come on."

He helps me out and as we walk to the smaller building. I see a letter board near the door that just says 'SKINFLICKS' and some hours of operation. Below the sign is a printed piece of paper that says 'CASH ONLY' and below that someone has written in marker 'Don't even think about it.' We walk through the blackened glass doors into a seedy looking theater. It has dingy red carpet and only four theaters. I turn to look to see what's playing but Elliot orders my eyes to the floor. I just stand there holding his hand like a life-line as he decides what we're going to watch. We walk to a teller behind plexiglass, and Elliot orders the film in the theater #4. The middle aged man behind the counter never takes his eyes off me as he makes change. 

Elliot knows where he's going and leads me down the stained carpet to theater #4. The theater is dark and small, maybe 40-50 seats, but they are spread out more than traditional theaters. Some are set alone; some are set in groups of two, three or four. Each group has at least two feet between it and the other seats. Only a few heads turn to us as the light from the hallway silhouettes us before the door closes. There's a woman on the large screen, strapped to a medical table, her legs open obscenely. A man is between her legs, feasting from her pussy.

Elliot guides me to a seat near the back. He asks for my wrists and I give them to him. He proceeds to cuff my wrists behind my back, then he helps me sit down. Instead of sitting next to me, Elliot slips between the seats and sits behind me. I turn to look at him, but he just twirls his fingers and tells me to look forward. 

There are four 'movies' total. The first is the medical room one. It's kind of cheesy. About a doctor who impregnates his patients. It lasts about 15 minutes from the time we came in. The second is maybe 30-45 minutes long. It's about a woman who wanders into a locker room after a basketball game. When the second player starts using the woman, Elliot reaches over and grabs my hair. His other hand cups my breast and fondles me. "Look at her. All those men are going to use her. She'll be on her knees for a long time. Servicing men. Pleasuring men. Submitting to men. And she'll love every minute of it." He reaches beneath my dress and strokes my clit, feather light touches meant to torment me. I squirm and twist as the movie goes on. More and more men use the woman. Some push her up against the lockers; others bend her over benches or just use her on the floor. The porno finally ends and Elliot's fingers mercilessly leave me wet and needy. 

A few more people have entered the theater. The third film starts with a man walking a woman into a small dingy room. He uses ropes to tie her knees together then has her kneel on a padded bench. He secures her knees to one end of the bench, then ties her wrists together and secures them to the other end of the bench. Without a word he lubes up her pussy and her ass, then wipes off the excess with a dirty looking towel. The words he says next chill me, even though it's just a movie. "I've decided to sell you. A man will be here in a few minutes. He is thinking of purchasing you, but he wants to sample you first. He's going to use your mouth, your cunt and your ass. Be good and do your best to please him." 

I'm squirming in my seat. Partly because of Elliot and his finger torture during the last porno, partly because of what's happening on the screen. I hear Elliot whispering in my ear. "Look how well trained she is. Passively waiting to serve her master. Or waiting to service her future master. So obedient. Such a good girl she is."

I look back at him. "Do people really get sold?"

He kind of nods his head to the side. "For you, no, but yes, people do get sold. As a submissive, you can choose to give yourself to someone, but that doesn't mean they can sell you. If something happens, and the submissive has to go, they have a say in what happens to them. They have a choice in their future."

"But people get sold?" He said no and yes.

I hear him sigh softly. "There are true slaves, in this country and every other county in the world. People who are held against their will and used however the slavers want to use them. Their live are usually hard and brutal, and thankfully short. The world outside of ours often combines the two, but in reality they are nothing like us.




Just Curious Ch. 10



I look around; no one is nearby to hear us speaking. The buyer has entered the room in the film, and is casually running his hand over the bound woman. "Why would a submissive have to go?"

"Usually, it's because a master dies or is no longer able to keep a sub. Then a friend, or a second, is responsible to keep the submissive safe, either by keeping her himself, or finding a new dominant, or even setting her up to live on her own. Oh, and subs can be male or female, I'm just using the female noun because you'd relate to it better. The sub always gets a say in what happens to him or her. And before you ask, a 'second' is another dom who is trusted to take care of the sub if anything happens. I am Marcus's second. Harper is Dustin's second."

I turn back to the screen. The buyer is thrusting his cock in the woman's mouth. She is struggling, but doing her best to accommodate his size and length. Soon as he's hard enough, he moves around behind her and without warning slam himself in her pussy. Her face twists in shock or pain, but she doesn't scream. The man pushes her head down to the bench and he fucks her hard. I turn away to look at the floor, but Elliot sees and with a hand in my hair turn me back to the movie. "Keep watching, girl. A toy is meant to be used. Meant to be enjoyed."

"Are these actors? Is this staged?"

"Some are and some aren't. These are all amateurs. They make the movies and this theater shows them for one or two weeks. Some have stories, some are just fucking, and some are art house movies. All are sexual. All are consensual. This couple has a different film every two or three weeks."

The man is grunting as he fucks the woman. Her face is cringed as she bears down to endure it. I can feel my pussy start to clench and relax in time with the fucking going on in the film. The man pushes two thumbs in her ass and pulls them apart. Her ass is shown obscenely close up. My body remembers when I did that to myself at Marcus's command. When I begged him to fuck my ass. 

The man pulls out and spanks her ass, I watch her face as she endures the pain. After enough slaps to redden her globes, he presses his cockhead against her anus and starts to push. The woman stops breathing as he forces himself inside her. See, it's not just me. Soon the man is in and he begins fucking her ass in earnest. She whimpering now, but taking everything he's giving her. 

Suddenly Elliot wraps his hand around my neck. "Did you enjoy having your ass fucked today? Marcus seemed very pleased with you. I can imagine you on your knees, taking every inch he can get in you. Your body naturally converting the pain to pleasure. Did you cum? I bet you did. I bet you screamed loud enough to shake the windows." My body is trembling as he describes his fantasy. Enough was different, that I know Marcus didn't discuss it with him in detail, but the man can make me quiver with just his words. He lets my neck go and settles back to watch the movie.

The man pounds into her ass until he climaxes. He stands back and watches as the cum starts to dribble out of her ass. Then he just leaves. He leaves and she slumps down on the bench, waiting for someone to come and release her. Waiting to find out her fate.

The screen goes black and a fourth movie starts. This one is rope bondage. Over the next 15-20 minutes, a small tattooed Asian woman is portrayed is several different poses, some even suspended above the ground. She sucks whenever a cock is offered her. She submits to every new pose, and says please and thank you before and after she's fucked. She seems excited and happy to be completely in the control of another person. Elliot touches, fondles, and comments at random points in the movie. 

The fourth porno ends and another begins. I recognize the room and the woman from the medical room film we saw first. It must be on a loop. Elliot is at my side. He helps me stand and we start exiting the theater. "Sir? What about the handcuffs?"

He looks back at me, then checks to see if they're secure. "They're still good. Are the cutting into your wrists?" 

What? "No, sir, they're not. I was asking if you were going to remove them before we leave the theater.

"Why? I'll just have to put them back on again." He watches me. I know he's waiting for me to argue with him.

"Yes, sir." He leads me out the darkened theater into the dingy, red carpeted, hallway and back to the attendant. There's a man in front of us, he does a double-take when he sees me, but thankfully doesn't say anything. The man finishes paying and walks away to his movies. As Elliot steps up to pay, the darkened doors swing open and three men walk in wearing Boston University t-shirts. I look pointedly at the wall, trying to be anywhere but here. What happens next causes everything to stop. "Holy fuck! Look at that slut."

I see Elliot's back stiffen sharply. He stands slowly as the men start laughing. He turns to face the three me. The man in front blanches instantly and puts his hands up, the other two are still laughing

The man in front starts babbling. "Oh god. Oh god. I'm so sorry. He didn't mean nothin' by it. He doesn't know... He's just stupid. Please. He's from the east coast, he doesn't know." One of the other two men has figured out something is very wrong and stopped grinning, but the third man is completely oblivious. He punches the first guy on the shoulder. "I'm not stupid, you piece of shit. You're stupid."

Elliot raises his arm and points at the door and snaps his fingers, just once. Once is all it takes. The guy in front thanks him profusely and pushes the other two out the door as quickly as humanly possible. The third man is still arguing. Elliot grabs my chin and looks me in the eye. "You are not a slut." He emphasizes every word.

"I'm dressed like a slut. Everyone thinks I'm a slut. That's the same thing."

The man hands back the change and Elliot drags me into a corner. "You are not a slut. Say it."

I feel about two inches tall. This horrible dress is bad enough in private. What was Marcus thinking sending me out in public like this? What did he think was going to happen? Elliot shakes my head. "Say it."

With as much disdain as I can muster I repeat the meaningless words. "I am not a slut. Sir." 

He grabs my hair and pulls my ear to his mouth. His voice is a deep dark growl. "Do not disrespect me like that ever again. You are not a slut. Those men, and all the others, do not matter. They are nothing. You are whatever Marcus or I tell you you are. You are not a slut."

He shakes my head for emphasis. "Yes sir. I understand." I don't, but I'm not going to argue about it.

Elliot takes me into a different theater. This time he sits on a seat and guides me onto his lap. He uses his legs to spread mine apart. I feel completely vulnerable, which is the way he wants it. There's a white room on the screen. White walls, white carpet, white sofa, white bed. There's the thin, pale stereo-typical blonde relaxing on the bed. She's wearing a white bikini top and a white sarong. I'm not a porno aficionado, but even I know there's going to be a black man in this one. 

Yup, I was right. A tall, strong black man walks into the scene. The woman flashes him more of her leg. They kiss, and the woman's clothes end up on the floor. Elliot's fingers are dancing over my clit. I try to keep from wiggling on his lap, but he makes it very difficult. The woman sucks and fucks the man; moaning, writhing, and begging. I can feel the outline of Elliot's cock getting harder and harder as he toys with me. "I love playing with this body. It feels so good writhing on my cock."

The next movie is a woman sitting on a basement floor. The dinginess of this image a jarring difference from the previous one. Her arms secured to the wall with thick leather bands. Her knees bent and pulled wide apart. A bald man come into view, he's shirtless and wearing black pants. He whips her with a crop and places clothespins around her breasts, along the inside of her thighs, and on her pussy lips. He tugs and toys with her until she's pleading with him to stop. Elliot had abandoned my pussy and is focused on my tits. He pinching and pulling my nipples through the thin material. The man onscreen has stepped out of the frame, when he returns he has a garden hose. He turns the nozzle to a high blast and douses the poor woman. At that same instant, Elliot slaps my left tit hard. My body jolts, but somehow I remain quiet. Some heads in the theater turn toward us anyway, following the sound of the slap. "Such a reactive little toy. A man could play with you for hours and hours." 

The man on screen uses short bursts of water to remove every clothespin from her body. He pays extra attention to her clit. She has to hold her breath when he gets close to her face. The straps on her legs keeping her knees spread wide and helpless against the onslaught of the water blasting on her. 

She's moved to a plain metal table and strapped down. The man fucks her as he whips her tits. Elliot grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "Rub my cock. Make me hard." As the man on screen fucks the woman, I rub Elliot's cock through his pants with my cuffed hands. The woman screams her orgasm, and a few thrusts later the man sprays her tits and stomach with cum.

Elliot releases my hair as the third movie starts. Three men surround a woman on her knees. She sucks each of the cocks in turn. Elliot wraps his arms around my midsection, pulling me in close. We just watch in silence as the woman services the three men. At first, she has some control, but as the film goes on, the men begin controlling her more and more. She is a sloppy mess when they're done. Spit and cum covering her face, hair, and chest. She smiles at the camera, licking her lips, as the picture fades out.

The blonde in the white room is repeated. Only three movies are in this theater. I have no idea how long I've been here, or what time it is. Elliot helps me off his lap, releases my hand cuffs, and fixes my dress. We head out of the theater, then out of the building. The sky is still bright, although no sun reaches the small alley or parking lot. He helps me into the old Jeep, revs up the rumbling engine, and we're on our way.

"Sir. Does Marcus own that place?"

"Nope, I do."

"You own it?" 

"Yup. You didn't think I stood around the brothel looking pretty every day, did you?"

He is kinda cute, and the comment makes me smile. "Actually I did. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Standing around, directing traffic, looking sexy."

Elliot laughs out loud. "Sassy one, aren't you. You're forgiven, but just because you added the 'sexy' comment at the end." We both end up laughing as he drives us back to the brothel. The tension from the previous few hours broken.

I'm relaxing into the surprisingly comfortable passenger seat when Elliot pulls up to the large gate. We wait for it to slide open, and then he pulls into an empty spot. Ever the gentleman, he helps me out and escorts me into the brothel. There's and older gentleman working the podium now, he nods at us as we enter.

Marcus is sitting at his desk, working at the computer. "Welcome back. How'd she do?" Elliot closes the door behind us. "Some college kids called her a slut, that didn't go over very well. But for the most part, she did fine. Obeyed without hesitating. Asked questions respectfully. I enjoyed her. I think she did too."

Marcus eyes me for a bit, as Elliot goes to sit down on one of the sofas. "Come here girl." I walk over and stand in front of him. "Do you think you're a slut?"

"Kinda. I let strangers fuck me and dress me up like a hooker." I watch him, hoping he's not mad. He did say he wanted honesty.

"You are not a slut. You are submissive. Yes, the dress is a tad bit on the skimpy side..." I cock my head to the side and give him an 'Oh, really.' kind of look. "OK, it's really skimpy, but you're damn sexy in it. I am very proud to have you this week, and I wanted to show you off a little. You can't blame me for that." He's running his hand up and down my sides. "You are not a slut. No one who knows us will ever think you are a slut. As for the outside world; who cares what they think. Let them have their boring vanilla sex, and desperately clutch onto their fragile reputations. We've got better things to do."

He stands and pulls me in for a hug, telling me he missed me. He asked if I enjoyed the movies, I nod my head into his shoulder. "Did they make you horny?" I nod my head again. "Did Elliot make you horny?" I look up at him. He's up to something. I nod and watch his face light up. Yeah, he's definitely up to something. I look behind me and Elliot is watching us intently.

"Maybe you should go over there and thank him properly." He holds me at arm's length, watching me. 

"Thank him? Properly?" I see the twinkle in his eyes. This can't be good.

"Thank him properly. On your knees." He lets his arms drop as he continues watching my reaction.

What? I turn to look at Elliot. He's still sitting on the sofa, watching us. He knows what we're talking about. He's just waiting for my answer.

"He kept you safe on Monday, and took time out of his busy day to watch over you. He watched you again today, when I had something I had to do. He kept you safe both times. I think that deserves a little gratitude."

"You want me to have sex with him?"

"No baby, I want you to let him use you. First, to thank him for watching you and second as a gift, from me, for his birthday." Something just clicked in my memory. He's asked me about this before. He said he wanted to watch me with Elliot.

"Are you going to watch?" I look back at Elliot. Am I really going to do this?

"Yes, little one. I'm going to watch. I would love to watch you cum."

"What do I have to do?" I'm not sure about this. I need Marcus's strength.

He gives me an easy confident smile. He reaches for the hem of my dress and slowly pulls it up over my head. He turns me around so I'm facing Elliot. He's whispering in my ear. I can feel the solidness of his body at my back. "I want you to go over to him as ask if he wants to use you for his pleasure. Tell him it's in honor of his birthday, and you are a gift from me. Can you do that, baby girl? Can you do that for me?"

I nod my head yes, but I'm shaking like a leaf. I can't move. Marcus gives me a gentle shove and my foot moves forward to keep me from falling, then the other foot. One after another, my feet slowly bring me in front of Elliot. He watches me, his eyes roaming over every inch of my body as I stand before him. I hear the click of the camera. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can do this.

"Sir. I would like to express my gratitude to you for taking time out of your day, both today and Monday, to take me out and watch over me. Marcus would also like to show his appreciation for your friendship and loyalty. As part of your birthday gift, he would like to offer my use, for your pleasure." More clicks.

Elliot just looks up at me from the sofa, a small smile spreading across his face. He is handsome, but I'm still nervous. He stands and runs a hand down my cheek. "It'll be OK. Don't be nervous." He begins to open his pants, slipping his shoes off, before sliding them down his legs. He's naked from the waist down. He steps sideways out of the discarded clothes, and pulls me in front of him.

His hands are on my upper arms, holding me close, his lips start at my forehead, working down my check and neck. "So soft. So sexy." He tilts my face up to his and the first kiss is soft and lingering, calming my nerves and lighting my core on fire. "Take my shirt off, little girl."

My arms have been dangling at my side, not quite sure what to do or where to go. But now that they have a purpose, they tentatively work their way up along his sides, brushing against the soft material, until they reach his collar. Elliot's tongue slips into my mouth as I open the first button. A hand slips down to grasp my ass as I continue to work my way down the front of his shirt. When all the buttons are open, I run my hand up his hard abdomen and chest, gently easing the shirt off his broad shoulders. The contrast between my pale hand and his obsidian chest is mesmerizing. I watch my fingers glide across the dark expanse of his torso, back and forth. The dark cock hanging between his legs is beginning to firm up at my touch. 

He puts his hand on my chin, and brings my eyes back to his. "You are so beautiful. Is this what you want? It has to be your choice."

It's back to me again. My words have power. My voice is my control. I look into his soft brown eyes. He's waiting, and he'll wait until I answer him. If I choose, this ends now and I go back to Marcus. It's my choice. My voice is my power. "I would be honored to be your birthday present, Elliot. You may use me for your pleasure." 

His face lights up, I think he might even laugh, but he doesn't. He kisses me again. "So perfect, little one." More kisses along my throat, his hands roaming over my flesh. "Kneel."

I drop down in front of him; knees spread wide, with my hands palms up on my thighs. "Hands behind your back, and lace your fingers together."

"Yes sir." I move into the new position. He lifts my chin so I'm looking up at him. He runs his dark cock over my face, caressing me with it. His scent is different from Marcus; more dusky, not as tangy. Anticipation is coursing through me. More clicks.

"Show me how you pleasure a man." That voice. I love that voice. My lips part and I get my first taste of this new man. I suckle and nuzzle the tip. Slowly taking more of him into my mouth. I run my tongue along the length of his shaft, ending with soft kisses on his balls. I relish the feeling of his cock turning to steel in my mouth. 

I shift my stance to get better leverage. I take a deep breath and press my head forward onto his cock. When it reaches the back of my mouth, I swallow, and Elliot slides down my throat. Hold for as long as I can, but as usual, that is only a few seconds, before I pull off him. I gasp in a quick breath and go back to savoring Elliot's cock. Elliot releases a deep guttural moan and I smile. I did that to him. 

I keep pleasuring him, maybe swallowing him another half dozen times, before he pulls me to my feet. His mouth claims mine. His hands are searching out every inch of my flesh they can reach. He breaks the kiss, and just looks at me, breathing hard. He glances behind him to see where the sofa is, and sits down. His cock is standing up proudly from between his legs. "Mount me."

"Yes sir." With my hands on his shoulders for balance, I place my right knee outside his on the sofa, then swing my left leg up to the other side. I scoot forward, his cock bumping up against my pussy. I take him and position him at the entrance to my seeping tunnel. Slowly I sink down onto the hard member, until its snuggly embedded inside me. 

Elliot doesn't move. I don't move. His eyes roam over my chest and face, before his hands join in on the fun. He fondles and massages and caresses my body for the next few minutes. I just sit there, enduring the prolonged foreplay. "Please."

He pulls me forward and kisses me, tugging my lower lip through his teeth. "Ride me, girl."

"Yes sir." My hips lift me up until the tip is almost pulled out, then slink back down along his length. I keep a constant pace, but shift my hips at different angles trying to figure out what he enjoys most. I try anything I think he'll enjoy. I settle down on his lap and work circles clock-wise and then counter clock-wise. His eyes kind of roll and he drops his head back onto the back of the sofa. He liked that. My muscles clamp down on his cock and lift myself up. He groans and his eyes pop open and find mine. "Oh god."

A dark lustful laughs leaves my lips as I sink back down. "I'm not a god, but you can worship me if you want." I hear Marcus bark out a short laugh from somewhere behind me. He said something similar to me. 




Just Curious Ch. 10



Elliot is trying to figure out what's happening. "You shush back there. This is my birthday present. If I die from this, let my family know I died a happy man." I give him another big squeeze and his head lolls to the side. His hands are gripping my hips.

"You're not going to die, you old fart." The banter between the two men is emboldening me. The insecurity and fear of the unknown slowly slip away to nothingness. A sense of normalcy seems to settle over everything. The clicks of the camera fade into the background. Marcus wants me to fuck this man; his friend. Marcus wants to give this man something exceptional for his birthday. 

Sweat starts to form along my hairline, down my back and under my breasts. My hips and legs are starting to feel the burn. I place my hands on either side of his face, drawing him back to me. "Happy Birthday, sir. Marcus trusts you and respects you. He has given you his toy to play with. I am yours to use. I am yours to take. What is your birthday wish, sir? Tell me and let me fulfill your every need. Or take me and I'll give you everything I have. Use me, sir. Please."

Elliot shifts suddenly and I find myself beneath him. His long hard strokes take my breath away. I watch his eyes as he takes me, wrapping my legs around his waist. His breath is coming in hard gasps. He's driving himself to completion. The constant thumping against my clit is shooting bolts through me. I can't hold out any longer. It starts in my core, wrapped tightly around the cock driving into me, and waves of pleasure roll through me, cresting over and over again. 

Elliot is lying on top of me, completely still, his muscles taught. I watch as he slowly starts to relax. His shoulders first, then his breathing, then his head drops down against my shoulder. We lay like this for a while before he extricates himself from the tangle we made on the sofa. He grabs me by my hair and pulls me so I'm lying on my stomach across his lap. I don't resist as he presses my face into the sofa cushion. "Jesus fucking Christ, Marcus. And she has no experience?"

I can hear the pride in his voice. "100% natural untrained painslut. Her instincts are high level."

I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a perverted form of a compliment. I let the men discuss me. "Her skin is flawless. The marks show perfectly on her." He's talking about the whip Marcus used on me before he took my ass. I feel Elliot's fingers circle the three scars on my back. Dustin's scars. Elliot doesn't say anything, but Marcus answers the unspoken question. "Crops, whips, and a cane. She came from just the pain. Seven stokes of the cane; it was her first experience." I shiver as the hatred drips off his words. Dustin did that to me.

Elliot sits quietly. His hand is still in my hair, the other caresses my ass. I just lay there, exhausted and sated, on his lap. "What are you going to do with her?"

"She goes back home on Saturday. I gave my word. She can't stay here. You and I both know that, and I think she knows it too. She's a good girl; she doesn't belong in this world."

My voice is soft; barely a whisper, but both men hear me clearly. "I want to stay. You said I have a voice in what happens to me."

I hear him rise and walk over to us, kneeling down by my head; he brushes the damp hair out of my face. "No babygirl. You can't stay here. You don't belong here." He looks to Elliot before continuing. "I'm not a good person." I try to protest, but his fingers cover my mouth. "My profession requires that I do certain things, things you can't be a part of. If you stay, the cops will be after you to get to me. Criminals will try to take you to get to me. Desperate people will try to use you. That's not a good life for you."

He kisses me and pets my hair. "Imagine 24 hour surveillance, bodyguards everywhere you go. You wouldn't be able to go anywhere spontaneously; everything would have to be planned and vetted. Few friends. Would your family understand? What would you do to bide your time, locked in the condo, day after day. Month after month."

"You go out alone, without bodyguards."

"It would look bad if I was cowering behind bodyguards. I've had some close calls, but I've come out on top each time. But there's always the chance that one day I won't. What would you do then? You couldn't go home, it wouldn't be safe. You'd be alone, or be given to someone else. No babygirl. You can't stay. You are so strong. I know you'll land on your feet and thrive."

The words hurt, and I don't want to hear them, but deep down I know they're true. I don't even know how bad he is. I remember the pictures the cops showed me. The dead people. The missing people. Marcus helps me up off Elliot's lap, and Elliot goes to hop in the shower quick. I just lean into Marcus, letting him hold me, letting him make it all better. 

We've been quiet for so long, I jump when the silence is broken. "Are you tired?" 

"Exhausted."

Elliot walks out of the shower, stark naked, and walks over to us. He picks up his pants off the floor. He leans in and kisses the top of my head. "Thank you, girl. Marcus should be proud of you." He shakes Marcus's hand and thanks him, then he starts to dress, right there in the middle of the office. 

Marcus gives me one last hug before letting me go. "You were spectacular. And I am very proud of you. Let's get you home and in bed. I know how grumpy you get when you're sleep deprived." He slips the broken dress over my head and tugs it so it sits properly. He and Elliot have a short, private conversation by the desk. Elliot is sitting in the chair, pulling his socks and shoes on as they speak. He looks so much smaller than Marcus.

The drive back to the condo is quiet and uneventful. It's just after 5PM, according to the dashboard. First thing is a shower. I'm chained up in his shower and he carefully and thoroughly cleans and inspects me from head to foot. I just half stand/half hang there as his hands wash me everywhere. He washes himself, then releases me. He dries us both off. 

I'm led to his bed. Marcus pulls the blankets back and tucks me in, kissing me on the forehead. Marcus is still naked as he wanders around the room. I watch him as he plugs his phone into the charger and closes the blinds and the drapes. He leaves the room for a bit and returns. He does some stretches before climbing into bed besides me. 

He pulls me into his arms, making me grunt at the sudden motion. He wraps his arms around me and we settle into sleep.

*********

I brush something off my nose. It lands on my ear, I brush that away too. "Stop it. Go 'way." I hear a soft masculine laugh. The fog of sleep starts to drift away. Why can't he let me sleep? "Wha?" 

"You are a grumpy little thing when you wake up, aren't you?" I take a swipe at him, but my arm gets tangled in the bedding. "Time to get up. Dinner's here." Involuntarily I sniff. Chinese?

"Food?" I'm starving. But am I more starving than tired? "Wha time it?"

It becomes a mute point when he pulls the blankets off me. "It's almost 8:30. I let you nap for almost 3 hours." He grunts like a caveman. "Food." Grunt Grunt "Then movie." Grunt He wiggles his eyebrows. "Then mating." Grunt "Me like mating." Grunt Grunt

I'm giggling too hard to be mad at him. "You are such a dork. I have to pee."

"Oh, and that was so much more romantic. Get your ass up, or I'll spank it."

"Promise?" 

His eyes go wide and he starts laughing. "Minx. Get up now. That's an order, little girl." He walks out the bedroom and turns down the hall toward the kitchen.

I grumble as I roll to the edge of the bed and stumble out of it. First stop it the bathroom, then the kitchen. My nudity is becoming second nature by this point. Marcus eyes me up and down. "Forgetting something?" I look around, confused. He rolls his eyes at me. "There's something on the bed for you."

I clap my hands. "Yeah, back to bed, where I wanted to be in the first place."

"Hey, you have two minutes, before I come get you, and that will not be pretty." I'm too far down the hall to respond.

There is something on the bed. Two something's, in fact. Oh My God. Boy shorts! He's giving me underwear? No way! And a cami. The black soft material feels so good sitting snuggly against my ass. I spin, giddy. The equally black cami slips on easily. A long lost friend with little red bows where each of the shoulder straps attach to the front. 

I skip back to the kitchen. "Looky! Looky looky looky" I spin around showing him my new outfit. 

He grimaces. "Yuck. It's dreadful! Even worse than I imagined."

I go to him. "It's not." I kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Marcus."

"Yeah, yeah. You deserved a reward, and I wanted you to feel comfortable. Don't get used to it. Those things are still repulsive." I just smile at him, and do another spin.

There are several Chinese food boxes laying scattered across the table. It smells so good. I'm starving. "Kneel." The smile instantly leaves my face. I see the dog bed on the floor by his chair. I walk to it and sink down to my knees, my spirits sinking with me.

Marcus bought an assortment of Chinese cuisine, and begins to eat. I wait, staring at the floor. I feel a tap-tap on my head, I look up and he's offering me some noodles dangling from chopsticks. I tilt my head back and open my mouth, and he drops the noodles in. I return to staring at the floor, chewing the tasteless food. Trying not to cry. 

The meal goes by in a blur. Nothing has any taste, just the repetition of chewing and swallowing over and over again. I don't come out of my funk until Marcus announces dinner is done. He helps me to my feet, and for the longest time he just looks down at me, not saying anything. Suddenly he leans down and kisses the top of my head before storing the leftovers in the fridge and cleaning up.

He leans against the table and pulls me into his arms. "What are you feeling?"

"Broken. Sad. Degraded."

"I was very pleased that you dropped down when I commanded it. You didn't even give me a reproachful look. You should be pleased. Don't look so sad."

"I just hate it. It's just.... It's so... I hate it. I can't explain it." I want to pull away from him, but he won't let me go. He just holds me, telling me how good I was.

He pulls back and lifts my face so I'm looking at him. "I am so very proud of you. You made me very happy tonight. You did what I asked, without hesitating, even though you didn't want to. But it's my job to keep you happy. You did your part; you obeyed, even though it took you the better part of a week to do it. Now I'll do my part; keep you safe and happy. I won't make you kneel and be fed anymore."

I look up at him, confused. "I thought you liked when I did that?"

"I do. I enjoy the act of feeding someone. I enjoy the sense of power and the submission given to me. But more than that, I want to keep you happy. And it's obvious this doesn't make you happy." I'm not sure how I feel. I'm ecstatic I won't have to be fed like a dog anymore, but at the same time I think somehow I disappointed him. "Do you have to wash up or use the bathroom? There's a video I want you to watch, and I don't want it interrupted."

I don't really have to, but I think it'll be better if I do, just in case this takes a while. He gives me ten minutes, and then I'm to be back in the living room. Standing in the bathroom I look at myself in the mirror. I look the same, but there's something different. It's not the underwear, but I do look odd wearing them after going so long without them. I think it's my eyes. My eyes are different. They look deeper, more intense. I look older. Not age, but more mature. I look stronger.

When I'm done, I find Marcus cleaning up in the kitchen. He looks me over; I can see he's worried or concerned. He holds out his hand and I place mine in his. He pulls me into another embrace. Something bad is going to happen, I just feel it. "There's something we have to do, and you're not going to like it." Yup, I nailed that one on the head. 

He leads us to the closet with the washer and dryer. There are two electrical panels on the back wall. He opens one, and reaches up and presses into a small opening at the top. The electric panel snaps out and he swings it open. Behind the panel is something that looks like a safe. He presses his hand onto a black square and after a few seconds it beeps and turns green. He enters a long string of numbers into a keypad and there's a soft click.

The door opens and I see stacks of cash, some notebooks, several manila envelopes, a few thumb drives and multiple DVD's. He takes one of the DVD's and locks up the safe. He makes a point of showing me the DVD. My name is on it. My breath hitches and my heart starts pumping faster. That's not what I think it is. Is it?

Silently, he leads me over to the living room and plugs the DVD into the system. He sits on the sofa and pulls me into his lap. "You need to see this. You need to understand what happened. If you need to stop, the red light/green light is what you need to say. Understand?"

"I don't want to watch this. I can't." My eyes pleading with him.

"You can. And you will. You need to see this." His eyes are hard, unwavering.

"Yes Marcus." This sucks. 

He watches me for a moment. He points the remote toward the TV, my breath hitches. Please don't. Please don't. I watch his thumb press the power button and the TV starts to flash. I take another quick breath. It's just a black screen with my name, Dustin's name, and the date I was with Dustin overlaid with the symbol for 'play'. "I'm right here. You're safe. You're cherished. If you need to stop, say red light, and we'll stop. But we will watch the whole thing. You need to see and remember what happened. I noticed you had some memory gaps. That's not good. You need to see what you endured. Ready?"

I nod my head, not trusting my voice. "Good girl. Remember, you're safe here. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are mine, and I will keep you safe." His thumb presses the play button, the TV flashes, and I start to tremble. He wraps an arm around me and holds me close.

There's a girl, standing by the door of a room that looks like it belongs in a log cabin. Dustin. I can't breathe as Dustin walks into the room. He snaps his finger and points to the floor. The girl, me, walks to the spot he pointed at. She's nervous, fidgeting, eyes darting around. Is that really me? That wasn't the same girl I saw looking back at me in the mirror today. 

In contrast, Dustin is calm and confident. "Strip for me." I see the girl's eyes go wide.

"What?"

"I want to see you naked. Now." The voice isn't a command. It's almost casual, like he was ordering pancakes for breakfast. Dustin steps back and sits down in a rustic, wooden arm chair. He picks up a guitar and starts playing a soft, slow tune.

The girl looks around. I don't know if I was looking for help, or escape, or just trying to buy time. After an eternity, she slowly pulls her shirt over her head. The scenes go on. Some I remember, some I don't. Either my brain was too frazzled to process everything, or it shut down to protect itself. I don't know. I just know I look scared. So very, very scared.

Marcus talks me through the scenes. Tells me why Dustin is doing certain things, and why I'm reacting in certain ways. When I can't look anymore, and turn away, he pauses it and calms me, before we begin again. When there are breaks in the movie, someone put in a screen that says the time skipped; like '47 minutes later' or '22 minutes later'. Those are when I'm left alone and waiting. 

I'm in a full blown breakdown by the time we get to the whipping and the caning. I begged! I begged him to do that. Marcus has wrapped himself around me, holding me tight. I think that is the only thing keeping me from having a panic attack. The girl on the screen is visibly shaking, but not with fear, it's need. A deep, primal sexual need. The cane comes down on the poor girl and I flinch every time. 

She's begging again, but her words are wrong, she's almost incoherent. Dustin hits her with the cane three times, in quick succession; one on each nipple and the third on her clit. My clit. That's me up there. The body hanging from the chains starts to twist and contort. She screams. I haven't heard her scream yet. Her body is still spasming as Dustin slams himself inside her over and over again. She offers no resistance. 

Dustin steps back to watch her. Then he kisses her. "So fucking perfect." He looks the girl in the eye. "We're done for now, girl. I'm going to clean you up, and get you to bed. Just relax and let me take care of you." He takes something out of her ear, then walks off screen, and the TV goes black. 

Marcus just holds me, letting me cry, letting me purge the emotions I've been holding inside. I turn around in his arms and curl up in his lap, my arms just barely wrapping around his wide chest. He holds me tight and whisper in my ear until I stop crying. 

"Why? Why did you make me watch that?" I haven't looked at him yet. I'm still clinging to his strength, his solidness, and that wonderful scent. "Why?"

"To show you what you're capable of. Both the good and the bad. In the right situation, that would have been glorious. Your body alive with energy. That is the reward for submission. But that same energy can cloud your judgment. It can make you blind to your limits. A situation like that, with the caning, should only be done with someone you trust implicitly. You have to trust them to respect your limits. You're voice is your power, and if your unable to speak, the dominant needs to know your limits and respect them. That can only come with trust, and time and experience. You can't know that in one day and neither can they." 

I can't think anymore. I don't know which was more brutal, experiencing it the first time, or having to watch it the second time. "Can we watch something else?" If I go to bed like this, I'll be awake and screaming in hours. 

"No. You're facing the wrong direction entirely. How are you going to watch anything like that?" I snort and thump his back with my fist. 

"I'd turn around, obviously. Don't be mean to me. I've had a bad day." 

He pulls back, and for the first time looks me in the face. "Have you? Was today a bad day? I was so proud of you, for everything you did today. You spoke up when you wanted something, and what a glorious something it was." I can hear the mischief in his voice and see the twinkle in his eyes. I still can't believe I asked for anal sex. "You were perfect at the office, and Elliot said you were just as perfect at SkinFlicks. And watching you cum... I have no words for that. You were in your element. You were as you were meant to be."

"Well, maybe that was OK, but I feel pretty horrible now."

He wipes my face. "You do look pretty horrible right now." I snort again, and a half-ass laugh escapes. "Laughter is the best medicine. I'm not sure how true that is, but you look better laughing, than crying." 

"You're incorrigible." Leaning my face against his shoulder. Soaking up his warmth, his strength, and his scent. 

"Yes I am. Thank you for the compliment." I thump his back again, but he did make me smile. "I have the perfect movie in mind. You go to the bathroom and I'll get some snacks and get the movie set up."

I crawl off his lap, it still feels weird to be wearing underwear, and go to clean up a little. When I get back, the leftover Chinese boxes are on the coffee table. He's focused on ordering the movie. I just watch him. He's handsome and strong and funny. I remember being terrified of coming here. Of him. He looks up at me and smiles. "You ready? You look better."

"I feel a little better. Thank you. What movie did you pick?"

"Ohhh. It's a surprise. It's a super scary, gory, supernatural horror flick. One of the best ever made."




Just Curious Ch. 11



OK, here it is. The last chapter. Enjoy.

*****

Chapter 11 (Friday)

I'm only half awake. Something is moving in the bed. My eyes open, just a crack, and I can see the sun just starting to lighten up the sky through open windows. I thought those were closed when we went to bed. Everything is quiet again, but only for a minute or two. The bed dips down as Marcus returns. "Shhhh baby girl. Close your eyes and stay asleep for me." Not sure how I can sleep with him moving around like that, but I can keep my eyes closed. The blanket is pulled down past my waist, and I'm gently rolled onto my stomach. I try shifting, but Marcus tells me to sleep again. His voice is soft and calming. 

I awake fully. Something warm and wet is put against my anus. "Shhh baby. Relax. Sleep for me." The tip of his finger presses inside me. Slowly more lube is added to my ass. I'm wide awake and trying to stay as still as possible. "Shhh baby, just relax for me. Everything's OK. Just relax." Something cold is pressed against my anus, and with gentle consistent pressure, it's pushed inside me. 

The plug embeds itself snuggly in my ass with a groan. "Such a good girl. You did wonderfully." He plays with my ass for a while. "I'm going to go work out for a while. Stay in bed and get some rest for me."

"You want me to sleep? With that inside me?"

I can hear the mischief in his voice. "Well, you can stay here and rest, or you can come with me and I'll put you on the rowing machine." 

With an involuntary groan I twist to look at him. He just grins down at me. There's no way I'm getting on a rowing machine with a butt plug up my ass. "I think I'll stay in bed, thank you."

"See, how easy that was." He leans in and kisses me. I shift around in the bed trying to find a comfortable position as Marcus gets dressed in some sweat pants and a sleeveless shirt. "I'll be back in two hours. Just stay in bed and try and get some sleep."

There is no 'comfortable' position, but I find that lying on my side is better than the other options. I stare at the wall. I stare at the ceiling. I wonder where he goes to work out. It takes a long time, but eventually I fall back asleep. 

It seems like no time at all before Marcus wakes me in his normal, icky sweaty way. "Aaagghh. Marcus. That's so nasty." He just grins down at me for a second before rubbing his face and head against my chest. "I'm up. I'm up." He kisses me and helps me up. My legs are wobbly, and my ass is sore. OK, my pussy is sore too. "I don't think I'm going to survive another day of this. I'm so sore in all the right places." Marcus's face lights up at my joke, then we both realize the importance of the statement. Today is my last day here. I have to leave tomorrow morning. He kisses the top of my head and leads me quietly into the bathroom. 

He removes the plug so I can use the toilet. I notice the plug was the third largest in the box. He takes a quick shower and dresses while I take care of my morning routine. After a quick, but thorough examination, the largest plug is put inside me. He leads me back into the bedroom and I stand there naked as I watch him dress. He puts on a pair of old jeans and a black T-Shirt. He walks around me a few times, inspecting me. I stand there quietly and wait. 

He takes my hand gently and we go into the kitchen. He pulls out the extra chair from along the wall. He helps me sit and starts preparing us breakfast. It feels 'wrong' to sit in the chair. I have to sit leaning to one side because of the butt plug, but I also know Marcus wants me kneeling on the floor. We chat as Marcus putters around the kitchen. 

For breakfast, we have spinach omelets, turkey breast, and fruit. Marcus tries to keep the conversation going, but I have trouble following along. "Hey, you look so sad. Please tell me what's bothering you."

Where do I begin? How do I begin? "I don't belong in this chair."

"I thought the chair would make you happy."

"So did I. But I feel like a failure sitting here. Like I'm disappointing you."

He leans over and kisses me. "As long as you try your best, you could never disappoint me. It's my desire to make you happy. You are happiest when you submit, so I give you an outlet for that need. But if something hurts you or makes you feel bad, I don't want to keep forcing you to do it. I asked you to kneel, and you resisted. I forced you to kneel and you did it reluctantly. Then I asked again, and you obeyed, but you clearly didn't enjoy it. I have what I needed; your submission. I won't ask you again. Dominance is about making a person shine, not about making them miserable."

"Why do I feel so bad? It's like I can't win."

A small smile crosses his lips. "Because you're a submissive. You want to please me, but you detest something I asked you to do. It's a conundrum. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Only you can figure out what you want." I huff. That wasn't very helpful in solving my problem. He ruffles my hair. "When you figure it out, let me know. I would be pleased to make you happy."

We finish breakfast, and I sit quietly as he cleans up. He helps me up and we go into his bathroom. He retrieves the bags and tubes needed for an enema. He bends me over the counter. The plug comes out, my anus is lubed and the enema tube is inserted. It takes almost an hour to clean me out twice. He rubs my back and calms me through the entire process. I'm given a quick shower. More lube is added and the largest plug is put back in. 

We walk out of the bedroom and down the hall. To the door. The door I'm not supposed to touch. My heart rate increases and my pussy starts to tingle. He looks down at me and I nod. I'm ready. He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "Good girl."

The door opens and I'm lead inside. The table is off to the side again. Just a pair of shackles hang from chains in the middle of the room. This is where he leads me. He attaches the leather cuffs to my wrists and pulls the chains tight, one at a time. I'm pulled into the shape of a letter 'Y', with my feet dangling a few inches off the floor. 

He adjusts the lights and takes a few pictures. He opens the mirrors and I see myself hanging there. It's an erotic image. Me - naked and hanging helplessly from the two thick chains. Marcus - dressed and physically overwhelming, standing beside me. We look at each other through the mirror.

Marcus turns to me, but stands off to the side so I can still see us in the mirror. His large hand covers my throat as he speaks to me. "Yesterday was for your pleasure, little girl. I went easy on you for your first time." He squeezes just a little tighter on my throat. The power he has over me is electric; my body is tingling with anticipation. "You did so well. I was very proud of you. Today, your ass will be used for my pleasure. Relax and try to stay calm. If you need to stop, use the safe words. Otherwise, endure me and I will make your body explode." 

His voice is a seductive dark promise. The lust in his eyes makes me quiver. The powerful tone of command in his voice courses directly into my pussy. He releases his hold on my throat and walks away. When he returns, I know I'll give him everything he desires. This is where I need to be. This is what I am.

The long single tail of a whip is dragging along behind him. He watches my eyes for any reaction. He twitches his hand and the end coils around his feet like a puppy looking for attention. He walks around me once, twice, and a third time, letting the tension build within me. He stops directly behind me, our eyes lock in the mirror. "What are the safe words, little minx?"

I gulp, my mouth is so dry. "Red light, yellow light, and green light."

"Good girl. Stay calm and just feel. There's nothing you need to do to please me. Just feel and endure. Let me play with my favorite toy. Let me use you." He steps back and snaps the whip a few times; each time getting closer and closer. I twitch every time, anticipating the sting.

I watch in the mirror as he flicks the whip so the tail snakes behind him. "Dance for me, little girl." His arms swings up and flicks down. The tail of the whip arches up in front of him and curves over his shoulder. It curls around sharply and heads directly for me. I hold my breath as pain explodes on my left ass cheek and shoots down the back of my thigh. 

He waits for me to stop twitching, his eyes never leaving my ass. The whip comes down again. He watches my body twitch in an obscene, erotic, suspended dance for his pleasure. He whips me about a dozen times, my back, my ass, and my legs all have long red stripes randomly covering them.

I slump in the bonds, I'm too exhausted to do much else, not that I have many other options anyway. He comes up behind me, his hands caressing each mark he placed on me. Cooing in my ear, telling me how beautiful I am like this. I melt into his touch and his soft words. 

I groan as he twists the plug in my ass, pulling it out and pushing it back in a several times. He pulls my head back by my hair and nips my earlobe. "You're going to feel so good sheathed around my cock." He releases my hair and grabs my ass, squeezing it harshly. I hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper. This is it. My breathing speeds up in anticipation.

The plug is removed again, and he adds more lube to my ass, squishing it around with two fingers. I feel something hot pressed against my anus. One large hand wraps around my throat, but doesn't squeeze, the other presses against my lower abdomen.

"Relax and breathe, little girl. Just breathe." With a quick, sharp shove, he forces the first few inches of his cock into my ass. "Relax, baby girl. Breathe for me." I take in a sharp breath and he shoves again. I groan as he continues to use my body.

A few more shoves and he's fully embedded in my ass. This was much faster and harder than last time. The pressure in my guts is drawing my focus away from the pain of my ass stretching to accommodate him. "Squeeze me. Squeeze my cock."

I'm panting now as I obey him, rhythmically squeezing the large member forced inside me. "What an extraordinary little plaything you are. Such a good girl. How are you doing? Give me a safeword."

I think for a second. The pain isn't too bad, At least not more than I can endure. So it's not red light. He said he went easy on me yesterday, and I was pretty sore after that, but I also know he didn't cum. I want to please him. I can't explain it, but I need him to find his release this morning. If I say yellow light, I know he'll go easy on me, but what if he doesn't cum today either? I don't want to disappoint him. I can't do that twice in a day. I have only one option left. 'Green light. Take what you want Marcus. I'm yours. Anything and everything is yours to take. Use my ass Marcus. Please, let me feel you fill my ass with cum. Please. Green light."

He pulls out and slams back into me. My body jiggling from the chains. My guts are churning as he uses me. I embrace the pain, letting it consume me. He moves both hands to my hips to hold me in place. More pressure is added to my arms and shoulders as he pulls me backwards, giving himself a better angle of penetration. 

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Please Marcus. Please. Oh fuck!" I hear Marcus growling behind me. It sounds animalistic, primal, savage. Through the pain in my anus, the discomfort in my gut, and the ache in my shoulders I feel the familiar flutter of my core starting to implode. "Please Please Please."

A hand grabs me by the hair and pulls my head back sharply. Two fingers search out my clit and viciously start digging into it. He thrusts his cock inside me until my orgasm erupts. My back arches. My breathing stops. And I clamp down on his cock as I lose control of my body. 

He rides me until I'm limp in his powerful arms. His breathing is harsh in my ears. He slams in me one last time, shouting out at his own release. It's a strange sensation having hot cum blasting into your ass. I relish the feeling because I know Marcus will be happy. I made him happy.

Marcus is completely motionless; his cock snug and warm deep in my ass. We stand like this while his breathing calms down. He pulls out and fucks me slow and easy a few more times, milking every drop of cum. I hang passively from the chains.

"So fucking perfect. Can you hang there for just a little longer?"

Sure, why not. "Yes Marcus. I can."

My eyes are closed as I just hang there. My muscles probably wouldn't even respond if I wanted to move them. The click of the camera brings me back to reality. He makes two circuits around me, preserving my total submission on film. When he's done he lowers me gently to the floor and unclips the chains from my wrists. He sits on the floor and pulls me into his lap, caressing me and praising me. 

We sit like this until I can move again. Marcus helps me up and into the shower; he washes me and inspects me for any damage. Then he gently puts me back into bed. He rubs a cooling balm into my burning flesh. "Just a quick nap, little one. Rest now. I am very pleased with you." He watches over me until my eyes close and I drift off to sleep. He decides to stay in the bedroom and get some work done on the computer.

He lets her sleep for an hour and a half while he finishes up with his e-mails and some other work. When he's done, he stands over her, just watching her sleep. She's curled up like a little kitten. Her messy red hair and milky white skin are a vision. If only she could stay. He gets her outfit for this afternoon ready. He smiles to himself, she's not going to like this one either.

He runs a fingertip gently over the outer curve of her ear. He smiles as she twitches and squirms under the covers. He gives a quick flick behind her earlobe. She groans and shifts onto her back. He flicks her nose. "Sto' it" 

He leans in and kisses her gently. "Stop what? Stop this?" The tip of her tongue slips into his mouth as he starts kissing her again.

"No. I like that. Stop the other stuff." Her mouth is getting more demanding as she wakes up. He lets her search him out for more. 

He cups her breast through the soft blanket. "This? Is this the other stuff you want me to stop doing?" He finds her nipple and gives it a sharp squeeze. 

"No. I like that too. Stop being mean to me. You're horrible at waking people up. All pokey-poke and drippy-drip." He laughs and tells her it's time to get up. She groans, but rolls out of bed and pads silently to the bathroom, rubbing her eyes. He puts the outfit on the bed and stands by the door way. He hasn't watched her dress yet, and today should be interesting. 

It doesn't take long to brush my hair and teeth and use the toilet. When I come out, Marcus is standing in the doorway. That's weird. Then I notice something on the bed. There's a black net and something made of red leather. I pick them both up. I look back at Marcus questioningly. He actually has the audacity to try and cover his smirk with his hand. 

The black net is a shirt, or maybe a dress. I'm not sure. It has four thicker elastic collars. I'm guessing for the neck, both arms, and a hem. Otherwise it's a soft, stretchy, black mesh. I can poke my little finger through the holes in the mesh. This isn't going to cover anything. 

The leather thing is also a shirt/dress thing. It's a soft red leather with several black rings randomly places along the sides and back. The rings have about a three inch diameter and would show a lot of extra flesh. But what concerns me the most is the zipper. It's at the bottom of the dress, but it only goes up about a foot and a half. I'm guessing it would stop right about where my belly button is. The rest is just open. 

I look back at him. He's still trying to hide his smirk. "I'm supposed to wear this?" He nods his head yes, a little too enthusiastically for my liking. "What are you wearing?" He looks down at his black jeans and casual button down purple shirt. I scowl at him. This isn't fair. I huff and he giggles. Actually giggles at me. "What?"

"Sorry. Sorry. You look like a little kitten preparing to pounces on something. Go on. Put 'em on." He's doing a better job hiding his grin, and I huff at him again. I hear another snort come from under his hand. 

I look at the two items, completely confused. "How?" He giggles again. Bastard. But he does walk over and help me. He takes the red leather one and places it on the bed. He takes the net thing and gathers it up starting at the largest opening, again, I'm assuming that's the hem. He bunches it up until his thumbs poke out the opposite opening. "Arms in front." That was a command, so I put my arms straight in front of me. He moves the shirt over my arms and lines up the two remaining openings with my hands and slides the shirt partially up to my elbows. "Lean forward." I bend at the waist and he slips my head between his hands. I push my head through the hole, the shirt slides up my arms and bunches just above my breasts. Marcus steps back and looks at me. "hhmmm. That looks good." I huff again. He's laughing as I wiggle the shirt all the way down. I adjust the elastic by my shoulders, and the neck is slightly twisted, so that gets fixed too. The hem just barely goes past the swell of my ass. Not that it covers much anyway, but longer would have been better than this. Marcus has his hand covering his grin again as I glare up at him. 

He ignores my displeasure. The leather jacket/shirt thing is next. He holds it up for me and I slip one, and then the other arm through the arms holes. It's lighter than I thought, and very supple. Marcus kneels in front of me and runs his hands up my legs. He connects the two sides and slowly closes the zipper. The 'dress' ends high on my thighs, and the zipper ends at my navel. The red leather parts and widens as it travels higher. The inside swell of my breasts clearly visible under the black mesh covering them. 

I see the lust in Marcus's eyes. He loves the way I look. The uncertainty I feel inside is quickly drown in the approval from this man. Marcus chose this outfit. He wants me to wear it. Well, at least until he rips it off me. Whatever he has planned, I know it will not be public. Not very public, anyway. I can wear this. I know it will make him happy. I run my hand across his cheek as he is kneeling in front of me. He stands and kisses me. I still think he can read my mind. Even if he can't, he knows I've accepted this gift from him. He knows I'll wear it proudly. For him.

Marcus growls. "God. I want to fuck you again."

I roll my eyes at him. "You just got me dressed. Besides, I probably look like some kick-ass anime chick in this. I might not let you take it off without a fight." I run one finger down his nose and across his lips, ending on his chin. Marcus growls again, and in an impressive show of willpower, he turns and leads me out of the bedroom. 

We go downstairs and hop in the SUV. We drive to a familiar building. I must have groaned, because Marcus smiles and looks at me curiously. "I thought women love spas?"

"Most do, I would assume. But getting stalked by the cops and having every single hair ripped out of my body might have soured my opinion. Just a tad." I put my thumb and first finger close together, demonstrating the 'just a tad' part. 

Marcus laughs as we pull up to the building. Instead of going through the front doors, Marcus goes to a side door and knocks. After a short wait the door open. It's Casey, the girl with the doves branded on her thighs. 

"Hello sir. Welcome...and WOW! Look at you." Casey moves to get a better look at me. "Ohmygod! You look fabulous! I wish I could pull that off."

Marcus snaps his fingers. He doesn't seem mad or insulted; he just wants us to get back on topic. "Sorry, sir. She just looks so awesome." 

"She does, doesn't she? I just want hair and make-up for today. I want her hair messy and up off her neck. And I want the make-up to be popping."




Just Curious Ch. 11



Casey looks at me again, cocking her head to one side as she thinks about it. "That should be do-able. Come on sexy lady, into the chair with ya." I look to Marcus and he nods. So I hop into the chair. Casey wraps a plastic cape over me. Marcus sits in a chair in the corner and checks his phone as Casey starts on my hair. 

I'm not facing the mirror, instead I'm facing Marcus, so I have no idea what I look like. Every so often he looks up from his phone, and either nods, or gives Casey some additional directions. I know my hair was teased and primped and pinned up on top my head. And I know Casey is using way more make-up than any normal person would wear. 

Finally we're done and Casey removes the cape with a flourish. "Ta Da"

Marcus stands and just stares at me stone-faced. I'm itching to turn around and look in the mirror, but I don't think he wants me to. It's at this moment that Anna walks in. "Good afternoon, sir. How is...Oh my goodness! WOW." That's two 'wows' since I got here, but Marcus hasn't spoken yet. 

"Anna dear, how are you? My gratitude to Casey. She did a wonderful job, don't you think?" I don't hear what Anna says next, I only had to hear the Marcus was pleased. He walks up to me and lightly touches my hair, careful not to ruin it. 

He whispers in my ear. "Do you want to see my beautiful toy?" I just nod. He turns me around to face the mirror. WOW. My legs are longer. My cleavage seems bigger. My hair looks messy and piled up on top my head, making my neck look unnaturally long. Several long strands hang down haphazardly. My lips are painted to match the leather jacket. But my eyes. My eyes have the supermodel paint job. Dark red near the nose and ending in a bright red on my temple. Black eye liner making them pop. Lashes are long and thick. 

Marcus stands behind me and cups my breasts. He whispers darkly in my ear so the other two women can't hear. "Now I really want to fuck you." He squeezes my tits before releasing me. "Thank you, Casey. She's perfect." He goes over and gives the shorter woman a hug. Opening his wallet, he hands some money to Anna and then some extra to Casey. 

Marcus and Anna have a short conversation and Casey comes over to me. She looks me over bottom to top again, fixes a few strands of hair. She leans in and whispers in my ear. "You look kick-ass. Whatever he has planned, go out and enjoy it." Her eyes are full of mischief, I like this lady. 

We're still smiling at each other when Marcus turns back to us. "What are you two conspiring about?" 

Casey pipes up before I can. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all." The way she drawls out the words leaves no doubt that she was up to something. I can't help but laugh. Marcus turns and scowls at me. He's not mad, but I like seeing Casey push his buttons, just a little. He rolls his eyes before leading me out the same door we came in.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Casey comes running and puts a poofy black plastic bonnet over my hair. "Don't want the wind to mess it up. When your inside, stretch the plastic and lift straight up." She demonstrates and Marcus nods that he understands. "Good luck." That last part wasn't for Marcus and the hair bonnet. That was for me. For whatever happens next.

We drive around Vegas to the other side of town. I'm still fascinated by the alien desert landscapes. I'm so used to tall trees, manicured lawns, and flowers popping up everywhere. This looks so desolate by comparison, but it has its own beauty. We drive to a factory district. Lots of long plain buildings and tall chain linked fences. 

He pulls in front of the fence of one plain building and enters a code on a touchpad. The oppressive heat washes over me as leans out the open window. The gates open. He reaches into the glove box and pulls out a remote. With one click, the large bay doors slide open, one to each side, like an airport hanger bay. "Close your eyes, little girl."

I close them as the SUV starts to move forward. I feel when the sun is no longer beating down on my arms. We stop and Marcus gets out. I hear the doors start to slide closed. He opens my door and I hear him toss the remote back in the glove box. The smell is musty and mechanical. Every sound echoes, the place must be huge and wide open. 

He helps me out, with my eyes still closed. He takes the cap off my hair and adjusts a few stray strands. He helps me to the front of the vehicle. "OK. Open."

I open my eyes. The first thing I see is him, standing in front of me, strong and handsome. Then I see the huge space behind him. Small windows line the top of the two long walls, giving some light to the huge room. There are two rows of columns supporting the roof. The next thing I see is the table. It's huge and solid metal. I would guess it to be 50-60 feet long and about 10-12 feet wide. Thick metal legs are evenly spaced every few feet and bolted to the floor. There's a pully/hoist system set up high above it. Rusty chains hanging down haphazardly. 

This is when it starts to get weird. Along the back wall are large 'things', easily 30-40 feet tall. They're really far away and the small windows don't give a lot of light. The first of the things I see are two AT-AT's and an AT-ST. (In the original Star Wars movies, the AT-AT's were the four-legged machines on the ice planet. The AT-ST's were the two-legged ones the Ewoks destroyed.) "You gotta be kidding me! Do they work?"

Marcus chuckles. "No. I'm good, but I'm not that good." I squint, trying to see what else is down there. I see a palm tree, an alligator leaning up against the wall, maybe a mushroom looking something, and Winnie the Pooh. These are just the big things, 20-40 foot. There are littler things scattered around, but they're too far away to see clearly in the dark factory

Marcus gently takes my hand; I had started walking toward the back, trying to get a better look. I take a step back to his side. "Did you make all those?" He nods that he did. I see bins lined up against one wall, random metal sticking out from a few of them. The other wall is a long workbench, enough tools to impress even my father, a proud tool-hoarder in his own right. There are gas canisters and welding gear, a few chicken wire cages, and a massive safe bolted to long iron rails and cemented into the floor. 

He waits patiently for my curiosity to play out, so I focus back on him. Even though I'd love to go over there and check everything out. He senses the shift in me. He leads me over to the table and lifts me so I'm sitting on it. He slips my sandals off and tosses them over by the SUV. I can tell he wants to kiss me, but he doesn't want to ruin my makeup. I lean forward and lick his face from chin to nose. I grin, this outfit is making me bold. "Minx! Bad girl." I wiggle my eyebrows at him. He just shakes his head and turns away.

By the work bench he turns on some switches and the A/C starts to kick in, I can feel fans begin to circulate the air. Then the music starts, some energetic pop music coming from speakers hidden along the walls. Lights flicker on near the far end of the table. He pulls a large black camera bag out of the SUV and sorts out his camera and gear. Now the makeup and hair makes more sense. This is a photo shoot.

He comes back to me and helps me stand. Standing on the table I'm finally taller than him. He takes pictures of me at different angles. I can't help but try and tug the outfit down lower. "Fix it once, then forget about it." I take the offer and arrange the outfit as best I can. I take a deep breath and nod. I'm ready for whatever is next.

"Walk slowly to the other end." I turn and start walking. He directs me how to walk to make my hips sway, and how to place my arms to emphasize my cleavage, and how to hold my head to make my neck look longer. He praises me when I do it right. All the time the camera is clicking. 

When I get about halfway down the table he tells me to kneel. I drop down to the kneel position. He takes more pictures. He directs me into a few poses, then tells me to make up some of my own. I look at him, confused. "Pose. However you want. Show me what you got."

Hhmmm What would an anime chick do? I arch my back and lean backward, feeling the pull in my thighs. The camera clicks wildly. I raise one hand above my head, the other glides down my neck, over my breast, and across my tummy. I return to the kneel position. Marcus is praising me, so I try another. I close my legs and shift so I'm sitting with my legs folded to the side of me. I place one hand on the table for balance, and the other slides under the leather cupping my own breast. I squeeze it as the camera snaps away. More praise from Marcus. 

I do a few more poses before Marcus tells me to move to the end of the table. "Crawl for me. All the way to the end." It starts off as straight legged and blocky, but he instructs me how to move so it looks sensual, almost feline. The camera never stops. I get to the end and he places me in the kneel position again.

He goes over to the huge safe. I watch silently as he opens it and places several boxes on the work table next to it. With the camera hanging from his neck he brings one of the boxes over. He turns it toward me, and opens it slowly. At first I think it's a crown. Delicate silver swirls intertwining with a few red gems here and there. It looks almost elvish, very intricate, very beautiful. Then I see the clasp at the back. It's a collar. I look up to Marcus. He made this.

He takes it gently out of the velvet lined box. "Lean forward for me." I crouch down and let him place the collar on me. I reach up to touch it, but he stops me. "Don't touch." He puts the box down and the pictures start again. He poses me a few different ways. The collar is removed, returned to the box, and he goes to get another one. Collar after collar he affixes to me. Some delicate metal works of art. Some are supple leather ones with intricate designs and rings for attaching chains to it. Pictures are taken with me standing, sitting, or lying as he directs me. 

He goes back to get his bag, and changes out the memory card in the camera. When he's ready he tells me to remove the leather dress. The camera snaps as I lower the zipper and shrug the shirt off my shoulders. It drops to the table top. He pulls it off the table and tosses it on the floor. My breasts look squished in the mesh shirt, so I reach up under the hem and adjust them so they're sitting centered and perky-like. Marcus just watches me.

"No pictures?" I tease him, showing him my handiwork. I'm feeling more and more comfortable up on this table. I do a few silly poses for him, and he just laughs at me. "Bad girl."

More collars are brought out, only these are different from before. Gone are the delicate, beautiful, intricate designs. These are bulky gothic monstrosities. Leather and iron and steel that weighs heavy on my neck. Most have thick chains attached to rings in the collar. Chains for cuffs, or clamps, or leashes. I kneel and let him put the first one on. The heavy, stiff leather is so wide I can't lower my chin. Matching cuffs are affixed to my wrists. A think chain connects my wrist to rings on either side of the collar. 

"No more coaching. Pose for me. Whatever feels natural." I test the range of movement as the camera starts clicking. I face Marcus and place my hands behind my head, the chains hangs down over my shoulder. I turn away from him. With my hands above my head, I force them as far apart as possible. I tense every muscle in my body, like I'm trying to break free. "Beautiful, good girl." I crawl down the table, Marcus matches me step for step. More collars and more pictures and more poses. These are darker and more animalistic. Yes, I see the irony of crawling around with a collar around my neck, but refusing to be fed while kneeling on a dog bed. I still haven't figured that out either. 

I look up and see the pulley system above the table. "Marcus, can I use that?" I point to the chains.

"The hoist? How?

"I think it would look good with the chains draped over me." Marcus thinks it over. He goes to a panel along the wall. The grinding of metal echoes as the hoist moves into position above me. The chains rattling as he lowers them onto my shoulders.

They're rusty and heavy. Marcus steps back and takes more pictures. I wrap my arms around the chains and pull. "Beautiful, Keep going." We use the chains along with several more collars. He's running out of boxes.

Marcus puts the collars away and locks up the safe. He comes back without the camera. "Strip."

This is where I either make a huge mistake, or make him very happy. "No. I don't think I will."

"What?" His eyes darken as he looks up at me from below. I like being on this table. I like being taller than him. 

"I said 'no, I won't strip.'" I giggle at the expression on his face and spin around. I take a few steps away from the chains and pulley system with my newly acquired supermodel walk. Marcus is just standing there, shocked.

Like a cat, he hops up on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. He dodges around the chains and stalks after me. "What are you up to, little girl?"

"You see. That's where I think the problem is. Little girl. Little girl. Little girl." My voice is sing-song and teasing. I square my shoulder and walk directly up to him, the heel of my palm connecting with his chest. He doesn't budge. "Little girls don't wear clothes like this. Little girls don't wear leather outfits that expose this much cleavage. Little girls don't wear 'barely there' netting that covers absolutely nothing. " I run my free hand up my stomach to my breast. He watches, transfixed, as I fondle myself.

He takes a sudden step forward; I keep my arm up, but take a matching step back. "Tsk tsk tsk. Bad boy. I didn't tell you to move." I enjoy the way his eyes widen and his breath catches. Oh yeah. I have his full attention now. I turn and casually walk a few more steps, making sure my hips sway the way he taught me. He just stands there, gawking at me.

I relish this newfound power I have. I know it won't last long. I'll push a few of his buttons, and he'll explode. But my gut says this is the path to take. So off we go on our next adventure.

"Do you know who wears clothes like this? Powerful women. Strong women. Women who take what they want, and leave little boys whimpering on the floor." I turn back and circle around him, my fingernails scraping along his powerful chest and back. "Are you going to whimper for me, little boy?"

That was it. That was the button that pushed him over the edge. In a flash he moves, and the next thing I know is I'm on my stomach with his weight pinning me down. His hands grab the mesh shirt and tear it to pieces. I can't lift him off me, so I try to crawl forward. He just grabs my wrists and pulls them harshly behind my back, making me cry out. I feel him releasing his manhood. In one motion, he forces my face down to the table top and pulls my hips up so I'm kneeling. Without warning, he slams his hard cock inside me. I scream again. "Red light/green light?" He shakes my head, his cock motionless inside me.

"Green light. Fuck me, you bastard." He growls and starts slamming himself into me over and over. I struggle to get free, but he's so much stronger than me. I try to twist away from him, but he just puts more pressure on my arms, threatening to dislocate my shoulders. I try kicking him, but that just ends me up on my belly again.

Marcus can't get a good angle on me in this position, and my kicking and struggling probably doesn't help him any. He pulls out and hops off the table. I take my chance and try to scramble away. He just grabs an ankle and pulls me off the edge of the table. I try to kick and slap him. He spins me around and pushes me against the edge, forcing me to bend over. I claw at him, even get a few good scratches in before he gets a hold of my wrists. He's shouting right in my ear. "Red light/Green light?" 

I twist around so I can glare him, he's breathing as hard as I am. "Green light. If you're man enough to take it. Stupid fucker. Green light." I spit at him and stomp my foot down on one of his. He's swears and slams himself back inside me. He pulls my wrists up, forcing me to press harder into the table to release the pressure on my joints. My hips and thighs are being slammed into the edge of the table. From the force he's using, I know those are going to bruise. 

Again I try to twist out of his grasp; he pulls out and smacks my ass several times. I grunt each time. My whole body absorbing the blows, one after another. I kick and shout and swear at him. He wraps a hand around my throat, pulling me up and against his body. I try to claw at his hands and his chest. He grabs both my wrists and pulls them away to a safe distance. He kicks my legs apart and forces himself back inside my pussy. "Do you like this, little toy? Do you like to struggle? Do you like it when I have complete control over you? This is what happens when you taunt me. I own you. You're mine."

"You fucking pussy! All talk and no action. Man up. You want to own me, then take me. Piece of shit." I kick my foot out behind me and hit him in the ass. He growls and starts swearing at me. I won't submit without a fight. He wants powerful, then I'll give him every ounce of it that I have. 

He grabs my knee and forces it up on top the table. He presses the back of my neck down against the table top. My hands claw at the table, looking for something, anything. He slams into me; over and over he uses me. 

My core begins to boil over. Like an avalanche it just slams into me. My pussy clamps down on his thick cock, as waves of pleasure wash over me. 

I'm gasping for breath. Marcus is still fucking me. My limp body rocking back and forth on the steel table. I feel his fingers digging into my hips. I know he's close. I squeeze down with my core muscles. I'm instantly rewarded with a low growl from above. "Fuck me. Marcus. Take me, I'm yours."

He slams into me once, twice, three times before he erupts inside me. He's pressing into me so hard I think my hips might break. I arch up and cry out. He grabs me by the hair and holds me there. "MINE! You are fucking mine." He pulls out and slams into me again. "Every god damn inch of you is mine to use." Again he slams into me. "Fucking. Little. Minx." Each word punctuated with another vicious thrust.

He releases my hair and I flop back down onto the table. He leans forward and lies on top of me. I struggle to breath, but I'm too exhausted to move. Eventually he regains his senses and lifts himself off of me. His cock slips out of my swollen, throbbing pussy. I can only groan. 

I feel him press two fingers inside me. Another groan. I'm too exhausted to resist. I don't think I'll survive another fucking like that. The fingers swish around inside me, prodding my insides. He pulls them out. I'm picked up and placed on the table top. He taps the side of my face a few times until I focus on him. "You're bleeding, baby girl. I need to get you back to the condo." He looks so concerned. I place my hand against his face to let him know it'll be OK. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

I smile and loll my head to the side. "You wanted a strong woman. You wanted to overwhelm someone who was powerful. Or you wouldn't have put me in that outfit. I gave you what you wanted in the way I thought would please you the most. Someone keeps telling me that is what submissives do." 

"Don't get sassy. I can't even punish you right now."

I giggle. "Sounds like the perfect time to get sassy."

He looks worried again. "Are you OK?"

"Define OK." He helps me up off the table. It hurts to move anything. I have trouble standing, so he picks me up and carries me to the SUV. He lets me sit inside, while he closes everything up and packs up all his stuff. He comes back to my door and opens it. He slips a modest green dress over my head and pulls my arms through the arm holes. He kisses me on the forehead, then he takes me home. 




Just Curious Ch. 11



I'm washed gently but thoroughly and laid on his bed. He inspects me head to foot. He rubs ointment on my scrapes and bruises. He also reapplies them to my whip marks. "I need you to relax and take a deep breath for me, baby." I do as he asks. Two fingers, covered in a cooling gel, and inserted in my pussy. I try to turn away, but he gently holds me down. "Shh baby, this will help. Just relax for me OK. Breath and relax." The fingers are taken out and inserted again with more gel. He pulls the blanket over me and tells me to rest. He stands over me, just watching. 

I have to know. I can't read him like he reads me. The only way to know is to ask, and hope for an answer. "Marcus. Did I please you?"

Instantly he covers me. My face caught between his large hands. "Yes. Yes baby girl. You were perfect. I couldn't be more proud of you at this moment. Rest now, knowing that I am very happy with you." He wipes a tear off my cheek.

"I thought I might have did something wrong." 

"No, you were perfect. I was the one who lost control. Any disappointment you sensed was for me, not you. You were perfect. I am very pleased with you. No more talking. Now rest." I nod my head and he kisses me again. He sits on the bed and watches me until I fall asleep. 

*********

Softly I'm being brought out of my dreams. "Hmmm. Wha' is it?"

"How are you feeling, little one? Can you move?"

"Do I have to? What time is it?"

"It's almost 7PM, Friday night. Let's see if we can get you out of bed." Gently he maneuvers me to the edge of the bed. With a little push, and a groan, I'm standing on my own. I tilt my head up and stare at the ceiling, letting the pain throb through me. He has his hands on my back steadying me. "How are you feeling?"

I do another mental check of my bits and pieces. "I feel well fucked. Mostly it's between my waist and my thighs." I look down and see large bruises on both thighs from being slammed into the table. "My pussy doesn't feel too bad. Mostly my hips and thighs."

Marcus runs his hands over me. "I put ointment on your ass and in your pussy, that's dulling the pain there. Looks like fingerprint sized bruises on your hips. How are your shoulders?" I try to roll my shoulders and let out another groan. "Yeah, I used you pretty harshly. Let's see if we can take care of some of that." I don't know what that means, but I follow him into the bathroom anyway.

He lets me use the toilet. I wash up, brushing my hair and my teeth. Marcus rubs the stiffness out of my shoulder, and applies ointment to all my aches and pains. Using a different tube, he squeezes some gel onto two fingers. I know where that's going. Yup, I'm gently bent over the countertop, and he presses both fingers into my swollen pussy. Another groan as he works the gel around inside me. He washes his hands and gets me dressed in the same modest green dress I wore on the way home. It has a square cut neckline and falls past my knees. The green looks good with my pale skin and red hair. 

Marcus takes my chin, and looks at me through the mirror. "You've pleased me more than I could have ever imagined, little minx. You've done everything I asked you to, and you just started to shine. I wish I had more time with you." 

The statement hangs in the air. "I go back tomorrow."

He doesn't want to let me go. I can see that in his face. "Yes. You go home tomorrow."

"I don't want to go. Please Marcus. Please don't make me leave." He pulls me into a big hug. I don't care that it hurts. He's holding me, that's all that matters. I have to go back. He gave his word, and I know I don't belong here. This week was a vacation for him; he has to go back to work soon. I don't belong here. We both know that.

"Enough. No more sadness. Tonight is a celebration. We're going to Alex and Yuki's house for his birthday. And I don't want you to have puffy eyes. I would make me look bad." I can't help but laugh. After everything we've been through this week, his image is probably the last thing he cares about right now. "Smiling is a much better look for you. Come on, lets go."

There's a box, about the size of a shoe box, on the kitchen table. It's wrapped with glittery light blue paper and a black velvet bow. He hands it to me to carry as we head out the door. I don't see Marcus as ever buying glittery wrapping paper. "Nice wrapping job, Marcus. Clean edges, and the bow it perfect." 

He just grins at me as he pushes the elevator button. "I'm a man of many talents." He's such an ass sometimes. But it lightens the mood. 

The drive to Alex and Yuki's house is uneventful. We can hear the music as we exit the SUV. There's a sign on the front door directing us around to the backyard, so that's where we go. Yuki runs up when we enter, and in one long, run-on sentence says: "Welcome. Thepresentsgoonthetable,thedrinksarebackthere,andthefoodisinthekitchen. Makeyourselvesathome." 

Marcus and I just stare at her back as she dashes off. "She always was a little excitable. That was one long squeak to me; did you catch any of that?"

I'm laughing, he looks confused. "She said 'hello' and that the presents go over there." I point to a table filled with presents. "Then the drinks are over there." I point to the bar area. It's just a long white folding table with bottles and cups and ice in buckets. There are two coolers under the table. "Then she said the food is in the kitchen and to make ourselves at home." I look up at him. "At least that's what I think she said." We both laugh again.

After the present is dropped off, we go get drinks and food, before we start mingling. We go see the man of honor first. He hugs us both as we wish him a happy birthday. The men engage in some small talk before the next guest comes to greet him, and we wander off. We sit on a stone ledge around a fountain to eat our food. A few people come up to talk to Marcus. 

A familiar face bounds up to greet us. It the tall, lanky kid whose band we went to see on Saturday. He shakes Marcus's hand and gives me a clumsy hug. He can't stop staring at me and it's beginning to make me uncomfortable. Then he starts talking, and it's nonstop. Marcus has to put up his hand to stop him. "Breath boy. Slow down and separate your words." I giggle as the boy take a deep breath and begins again, only slower. The kid turns beet red and now won't look at me. 

Marcus formally introduces us. This is AJ, as in Alex Jr. I see the physical resemblance to Alex, but the attitude and speech pattern are all Yuki. Once we're introduced and on speaking terms again, he won't stop staring at me. It must really suck to be a male going through puberty. Eventually he's called away. The other people laugh good-naturedly when he's out of range.

One of Marcus's friends pipe up. "I think he has a crush on you." All heads are nodding in agreement. Marcus adds his two cents. "He has good taste."

"Hmmm, maybe I should upgrade to a younger model?" The other guests go silent, as Marcus chokes on his drink. He looks at me, shocked, I just wiggle my eyebrows and grin at him. "You even think about it and I'll take you over my knee!" I can tell he's not mad.

I hop off the stone ledge and wiggle my empty plastic cup at the group. "Promises. Promises." The group erupts in laughter as I wander off to fill my drink. 

I'm mixing a vodka cranberry when Yuki comes up behind me with a bag of ice. I stand aside as she dumps it in one of the coolers under the table. I touch her arm before she dashes off.

"Are you OK?"

She looks at me confused. "Yeah, the parties going great. Why?"

I shake my head. "No, not the party. The punishment, from the poker party. I felt so bad you got punished because of me..."

She pulls me into the corner, next to a fence. "Baby, that wasn't your fault. Don't feel guilty for that. My mouth got me in trouble, not you. "

"Did it hurt? Are you really OK?" She takes both my hands in her tiny ones.

"To be honest, it was a horrible few hours, but Alex was with me the whole time. He made sure I was safe. Marcus is very creative; the punishment did fit the crime. But it's over now. I got exactly what I deserved. Nothing more, nothing less. All is forg..."

"So, this is Marcus's new slut!" I jump at the deep, menacing voice. We both turn in unison to see a blocky, thick-set young man with a horrible military-style buzz cut.

Yuki jumps in and scolds him. "Walter, this is Alex's birthday party. You were told to behave."

He physically pushes her out of the way, cornering me against the fence. "Slaves don't tell me what to do. Fuck off Yuki." He turns back to me. "Well, are you that bastards new slut or not? Don't look away, that slave can't help you. Answer me." 

This guy has some serious issues. I watch as Yuki bolts away, leaving me alone with this asshole. I stare him down. "I am not a slut!"

He laughs, and it's not a pleasant sound. "I'll bet you've had all your holes plugged repeatedly since you got here. Just like a good little fuck slut." I try to step around him, but he moves to block me. 

Yuki runs up to Marcus. "Walter's cornered your girl!" She's pointing frantically. The drink cup drops to the ground as Marcus quickly rises and heads in the direction Yuki was pointing. Yuki dashes off to find Alex before her backyard becomes a bloodbath.

Marcus doesn't see them at first, but then he catches a glimpse of them in the far corner. Shit. He's not going to get to her in time. He watches as Walter makes a grab for her face. Then the most outstanding thing possible happens. His little minx grabs his thumb, twists it, and forces it up in the air. The idiot bends to relieve the pressure and she moves behind him and adds more pressure.

He's just coming up to them when she speaks. "You don't have the right touch me. EVER. Understand?" She adds more pressure and he drops down to one knee. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Marcus is just arriving when Walter jerks and breaks free. He turns on the girl with fists ready, but stops when his eyes land on Marcus. "You should teach your worthless whore some manners."

Marcus's hands ball into fists. Just then Alex comes running over. "Knock it off, both of you. Marcus, you go that way. Walter, you go that way. This is my birthday party for Christ's sake! Can't you act like adults for once?" The two men eye each other. Marcus grabs my elbow and leads me away in the direct Alex pointed. I turn and watch as Walter storms off in the opposite direction.

"Nice friends you have."

"That creature is NOT my friend." Marcus keeps pulling me along.

"No shit, Sherlock. Can't we go anywhere without me getting attacked?" I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Marcus stops dead in his tracks. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it."

He takes me inside the house, past all the food in the kitchen, and into a bedroom. There are two guys in the bed. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" The guys take one look at Marcus and me, hop out of the bed, grab their clothes and bolt out of the door completely naked. Shit. Sorry guys.

He paces back and forth; I wait by the door silently. "Fuck." He stops pacing and just stands there. I take a step closer and put my hand in his. He turns and wraps his arm around me. "I'm so sorry, baby. I thought this would be a relaxing evening. I knew the prickless bastard would be here, but Alex made us both promise not to cause problems. I thought Alex would have it under control."

"I'm OK. He didn't touch me. It was just so sudden, and so much hatred. Why does he hate you so much?"

Marcus shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling. He huffs. I poke him in the chest, trying to get his attention. "The term 'prickless bastard' is a little more accurate than colorful."

I give a short laugh. "What? You mean he has no penis? So why does he hate you so much?"

"Well, he has a penis, maybe only half from what I've been told."

"And... What does that have to do with you?" Men get weird when they talk about their equipment, so I have to poke and prod to get him to answer.

He runs his finger along his eyebrow and scrunches up his face. "I might have had something to do with the missing half. Maybe. Sorta." He's looking at me sheepishly. 

It takes me a minute to process this new information. "YOU CUT... You cut his dick off?" My shocked outcry quickly becomes a conspiratorially whisper. "You actually cut a man's dick off?"

He shushes me. "It wasn't like that. Well, not exactly. Shit. I wasn't aiming for that when I stabbed him."

"That was some miss. What were you aiming for, his belly button?" Then it hits me - the femoral artery. That'd be a quick kill if he cut that. They were trying to kill each other. 

Marcus senses the shift in my attitude. "I'm sorry this evening didn't go so well. I really just wanted to give you a nice, normal, relaxing evening before you went home. I thought it'd make you happy."

"I was nice. You can't control what other people do." He gives me this 'who the hell are you' look. "Well, OK. You can control some people..." He arches an eyebrow at me. "OK, most people. Stop being such an ass." I punch him on the shoulder. "You know what I mean."

"I do, I was just messin' with you." We're both laughing now. Dork.

"Can we go back to the party? Just pretend this never happened."

"Yes. Anything you want. We can do whatever you like tonight." He takes my hand and leads me out to the backyard. There are no further incidents. We chat, and laugh, and relax with the other guests. Around 2AM I start getting sore again. Whatever Marcus used on me must be wearing off. 

We head back home, shower, and he applies more ointment. He leads me to bed and crawls in next to me. I fall asleep quickly with him wrapped around me like a blanket.

********* (Saturday)

I wake up. My muscles are stiff. Marcus is still wrapped around me. I try stretching and I clearly feel something poking me in the ass. A soft, gruff, sleepy voice tickles my ear. "Stop wiggling or I won't be responsible for my actions."

"You're the dominant one here. You're always responsible for your actions. Sucks to be you." He swats my hips and calls me a brat. I just wiggle again.

"OK. Everybody up." He rips the blanket off both of us. I start grumbling. At least I'm not getting dripped on with sweat. Marcus goes into the bathroom and I hear him peeing. Eeuw. Then the shower starts. I debate if I should curl up and go back to bed, but Marcus said 'up', so that might not be the best way to start the morning. Grumbling, I follow him into the bathroom. I use the toilet, and enjoy the shout when someone's water pressure and temperature drops suddenly. I'm smiling as I brush my teeth and my hair. Marcus steps out of the shower and glares at me. I respond way to chipper for my normal morning grumpy ass. "Good morning, hunny bunny. Sleep well?"

"You did that on purpose." He's teasing me.

I look over my shoulder. He's dripping wet and sexy naked. I make a point to ogle him from top to bottom. "Prove it."

"Sassy minx. If your ass wasn't already bruised you'd be over my knee right now." I just smile up at him innocently. "Brat." 

I hop in the shower as he does his morning routine and gets dressed. When I come out, the bed is made and my bag is on it, packed and ready to go. My cell phone and plane ticket are on top. The clothes I wore here and neatly folded next to it. The clock on the nightstand says 8AM. My plane leave at 11:30ish. With just the carry-on bag, I should be at the airport an hour early to get through security. With drive time, I'll probably have to leave the condo at 10:00 to catch the flight. That leaves me two hours left. 

I only have two hours remaining with Marcus. He must have seen me staring at the clock. He comes over and holds me. Just holds me. He doesn't talk. Doesn't try to convince me this is the best thing for me. Doesn't tell me how strong I am and how I'll get through this. This sucks.

He leads me out of the bedroom. I'm still naked as I pad down the hallway toward the kitchen. Silently he pulls out a chair for me, and rummages through the fridge for breakfast. Leftovers. Chinese, chicken, some fruit, and English muffins. I'm not very hungry.

I sit in the chair, which still feels wrong, but I don't want to eat on the floor either. We eat in silence, until there is a knock on the door. Marcus gets up to answer it. I worry that I'm naked, but then Marcus wouldn't let anyone in here unless her knew them.

And that someone would be Elliot. He kisses the top of my head as he greets me. Marcus pulls another chair from along the wall for Elliot to use. The three of us sit at the table. Marcus and I are picking at our food, but Elliot is eagerly finishing off all the Chinese boxes. 

Marcus starts clearing off the table. Elliot says he'll clean up, so we can sit together in the living room for a while. Marcus sits on the sofa and pulls me into his lap. Elliot joins us a few minutes later and sits on the other end of the sofa. 

We sit in silence again until Elliot pipes up. "You know I'm disappointed, right?"

"Join the club, buddy-boy. I did some damage yesterday, and that's not going to heal overnight. Her pussy is off limits."

"And her ass?"

"Yeah, I rode that pretty hard too. Her ass is off limits also. Just to be on the safe side" 

It's kind of off-putting having them talk about me like I wasn't even here. "Were you going to let Elliot use me again?"

Marcus kisses my forehead. "Actually, I wanted to try one more thing with you. I wanted to see if you could take us both, at the same time."

Elliot grins as my eyes get wide. "That's doesn't look like a 'yes' face to me, Marcus."

"Both? In me? At the same time?"

"Yup, I wasn't sure when you got here if you would do it. But you did so well, I thought we could give it a go. But it's not an option now, so Elliot is understandably unhappy with me."

Both? At once? Marcus is huge to begin with, and Elliot wouldn't be considered small either. Would they even fit? I wonder how that would feel. Elliot chuckles. "I don't think she's too keen on the idea, sir."

"She wasn't too keen on trying most things this week, but once she got going, she was a trooper. I was pleasantly surprised by her reactions. I'd like to think this would be the same way." Marcus sits contemplating, his fingers brushing my hair. "It was kinda of rude of me to make the offer, only to have to rescind it the next day. I could at least offer you a small token of my appreciation." Now what's he up to? His fingers leave my hair and run along my lips. "What do you say, little toy? I would love to watch you pleasure Elliot one last time before you go." He slips a finger in my mouth. My lips close around it as I suckle on the digit.

Marcus pulls his finger out of my mouth, and gives me a gentle push off his lap. I drop down to my knees and make my way over to Elliot. Both men have eyes only for me. Elliot runs his hand down my face, leaning in to kiss me. "Do you want my cock, little kitten?"

I glance at Marcus; he's leaning back against the arm of the sofa, watching us intently. I look back to Elliot. "Yes, sir. If you wouldn't mind. I would like pleasure your cock to make up for you not being able to fuck me today."

Elliot just smiles and leans back, resting his hands behind his head. I open his pants and slide them down his legs. I run my hands slowly up his legs, kissing the inside of his thighs as I work my way toward his masculinity. "Those stripes on your skin make you look like a frisky kitty cat. Why don't you start by licking me, like a good little kitten."

Weird, but whatever. I place my fingers on his balls as I start licking his cock with short little strokes of my tongue. His cock slowly gets firmer under my ministrations. "You're such a pervert. What's with the licking?"

"Shush you. I happen to enjoy an eclectic mixture of pleasures. You're just very simple-minded. Now stop interrupting, and let me enjoy myself." I try not to giggle as the two men start to banter with each other.