Cross My Heart

by Eido

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© Copyright 2021 - Eido - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/f; MF; bond; bedtie; rope; spank; tease; trick; oral; resistance; hum; nc; cons; XX

Continues from

Part 2

Chapter 7 - Reunion

I walked up the stairs to reach his second floor office. A woman was sitting on the bench in the dimly lit hallway of the old office building.

I took a step toward her and stopped. From twenty feet away, in the dim light, she looked like Robyn.

Well, shit.

She stood up, now looking down at me and clearly trying to figure out who I was. On second glance, I was suddenly uncertain. This woman's face was red and her eyes were a little puffy. Also, she was wearing tailored black dress pants and a shiny pale blue long sleeved blouse. Her short hair was trimmed and styled with a generous amount of some hair product, which wasn't Robyn's style. Then I noticed her shoes. Black wedge heels, closed toe with maybe three inches of heel, made her long legs look even longer. When she moved, I caught a glimpse of a delicate ankle strap over charcoal gray nylon.

"Sorry," I said, still moving toward Henry's door. "I thought you were someone else. My bad." She took one step toward me and stopped dead.

"I know it's a little dark in here, Andy, but it's going to be hard to talk if you don't even recognize me."

"Robyn? Really?"

"Andy? Really?" she said with a hint of her usual wise ass sarcasm. "I see you finally got your hair under control."

"What do you want?" I said. Sure she looked great. And she looked like she had been crying. Neither of those was my problem.

"Wow. Straight to the heart. I want to talk to you," she paused, "before you talk to Henry. I want to fix the mess I've made." Her face reddened at this last statement, not in anger, but in embarrassment, I thought. As much as I wanted to tell her to fuck off, I was curious. What could she possibly say that would fix this?

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked. She looked relieved.

"Yes. Thank you."

We both sat, taking opposite ends of the bench. I looked at her again. She had been crying, and this made me not want to look at her face. My eyes cut down, drawn by the light color of her blouse. There was something weird about it, some kind of texture or pattern I hadn't seen from ten steps away. I looked closer. There was something underneath the blouse. My eyes searched for a sign, and I thought I saw a hint of black just under the last button before her collar.

"It's your show," I said, prompting her to start.

"I don't know where to start," she said. "Maybe I should shut up and ask you what it's going to take to stay together?"

"I haven't really considered that possibility," I said. She bit her lip. If she had started crying, I would have called bullshit and just walked away.

"I made a mistake," she started. "Actually, I made two or three massive blunders, but you only know about one of them. Now I'd like a chance to explain." She stopped again. Dammit, I was really curious now.

"Alright. Let's start at the start. What did I do to piss you off so much?"

"It was that last time we argued over your wardrobe and sex suggestions. Back in April. And all that 'cross my heart' nonsense you were spouting, but I was never really mad at you!"

"You didn't think I meant it?" I asked.

"That you hoped to drop dead if you ever mentioned stockings or ropes again? Of course not."

"You did notice that I have not made such requests of you since then?" She opened her mouth to object, but I plowed ahead. "You had to get me drunk for me to break that promise."

"Which just shows it was still on your mind," she shot back.

"And Carrie and Heather just happened to show up in their 'work' clothes," I said, fingers adding the air quotes. "And I can't imagine any woman on the face of this earth with the guts to flirt with me right in front of you. It was a set up designed to get the response you wanted. To rationalize what you did next!" I was standing now, and I didn't even remember getting up.

She remained still, seated on the bench. At some point during my tirade, she had lowered her gaze to the floor. It stayed there now. I'm pretty sure she was crying. I realized then that she, and all her friends, were right about one thing. I could be a huge fucking asshole. Part of me wanted to cry myself, but I didn't see the point.

The door opened, revealing Henry. "I thought I heard shouting," he said.

"You did, Henry. I'm sorry," I said.

"Andy, please," Robyn said, eyes still downcast. At this point, I wanted to just chuck my whole life and start over from scratch. A mulligan, that's what I needed. I just didn't see a way forward that let us repair the damage we had both done to our relationship.

"Henry, we need a little time, if you don't mind," I finally said, because bailing now, without at least trying, would cement my status as gigantic douche bag.

"Okay," he said cheerily. "I'm starting your clock now though," he laughed. "Take as long as you need." He shut the door, and I wasn't entirely sure he was kidding.

"You heard the man. We have to hash this out by five or he'll charge us for the whole weekend," I said to Robyn. She looked up. Her expression rocked me back on my heels. My soon to be ex-wife looked at me with a level of hope bordering on adoration.

"Let me tell my story, start to finish. Then you can question me and poke holes in it, okay?" she asked.

"Go ahead." I sat down so we could be eye to eye.

"Yes, it was a set up. I knew it was risky with some potential to blow up in my face, but it was never supposed to go like this! I lost control of it, or I would have backed off as soon as I saw you puking. I meant what I said in the letter. I don't understand you, at least where these things are concerned.

"And, I admit, I thought it would be fun. You have a wacky sense of humor, Andy. I thought there was a real possibility that you would dive in with minimum fuss, and I would make it a memorable experience for us both. I meant what I said about trading places too. I figured if you put up with my ideas for figuring this out, I could pony up too." She stopped and looked at me.

I had no idea what she was talking about. Her letter must have explained whatever the hell it was she was thinking. I kept my face steady and looked back at her.

"Keep going," I said.

"So, yeah. I got you hammered, and then I spiked dessert with some over the counter sleep aid. And while you were out, we executed my plan. Well, I thought it was my plan, but… " she trailed off and looked away for a moment. "When I first had the idea, I was having a drink with Heather, and she started suggesting things. And then a few more friends added suggestions, and they all seemed reasonable. I mean, why dress you up if you can just grab some clothes out of the drawer and change back? Or you can phone a friend," she paused to give me a little look, "and get bailed out. So, we made you our captive. And although you do have a wacky sense of humor, you also have a wicked hot temper, and I was worried about that too. I thought you'd need time to cool off, and it would be best if no one was around. Heather convinced me to let a few others stay in the house with you as a safety measure."

"And the spy cams?" I asked, holding up Mayhem.

"My idea. I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you didn't blow a gasket and set the house on fire."

Whoa. Was I that transparent? "If you thought there was an outside chance I'd do something so extreme, why would you even try this?"

"I thought we could make it work." She looked at me, staring hard at my face. "Did you even read the letter I left for you? The one where I promised to make a really fun and sexy game out of this if you played along?"

"I read as far as I needed to." I returned her hard gaze with a heated one of my own. More calmly, I added, "I thought it was some warped scheme to humiliate me before dumping me for another guy."

We were both quiet for a minute.

"Yes. I gathered that from the frantic texts Carrie bombarded me with after you threatened to kill us all, plus, I did hear some of it live as it was happening."

"The cameras. They were recording, right? You weren't just monitoring my safety."

"They were recording," she said. "Let me finish, then you can shame me about all my stupidity in one lump."


"My plan, the one you didn't read about, was to make a sexy sex game out of it and get all our cards on the table and maybe finally understand what's going on in your head when you offer one of your ideas. Anyway, my friends had ideas of their own. They thought it would be even more interesting to have two captives. They had plans for us, and if you didn't like this morning, I know for certain you wouldn't have liked them." She paused, watching my face, searching for a reaction. I was too wrapped up in my own grievances to get her drift.

"Go on. What happened next?" I said.

"After you were all fixed up and the house was cleared out and all the other details were taken care of, most of us went to Stephanie's. It was pretty late, but we were all full of giddy energy. There was some more wine and late night talk tweaking my plans.

"And then, suddenly, I was a little woozy. Then I was naked. Then I was a captive too. They took all the keys, my wallet, everything. They did the same thing to my phone that I did to yours. I could call you, or I could call 911. And they told me that Carrie had changed the PIN on your phone so I couldn't give you that access. The only reason they cut me loose now, and I'm still not completely free, is your fiery temper. When Carrie heard you call Henry, she lost it. Of course that was after you called me your ex-wife and threatened to murder us all. They told me to meet you here and patch things up. I think they think we'll just give in and start playing the game with them again."

I snorted. "Fat chance."

Which is when my temper surged again. Not at my wife, who pressed back into the seat, obviously recognizing my anger.

I wanted to say a few more choice, ugly, things about her so-called friends and how miserable I was about to make their lives, but two things stopped me. Robyn's opinion of me, and the fact that we were just outside an attorney's office where I didn't want to be heard making threats. I breathed, deeply, appreciating the freedom. "My turn?"

"Go for it."

"I don't understand what happened? You went through all this," I waved my arms wildly, "just to 'understand' me? What is there to understand? Why didn't you just ask?"

"You always shut down when I say no, or you come back at me with promises I already know you can't keep. But I say no because I'm scared that there's something about you I'm not going to like. I was trying to figure it out without losing control." She gave a bitter little laugh. "That worked out so well."

No words sprang to mind. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about or thinking about. I didn't much care for what she implied. Maybe I was a pouty little shit when she said no to whatever idea I sprang on her. I'd like to think I was more mature than that. But it was her use of the word 'scared' that really stung.

"What are you thinking right now?" she said. I was deep in thought and taking too long to respond. I refocused on her face and saw her staring at me in that focused way she has when she's concentrating on solving a problem. Now I was a problem to be solved.

"I still don't get how and why this happened. Obviously, we have some communication problems in this area. Today aside, I don't like the idea that you've ever been afraid of me. I also don't understand or appreciate that your friends have become involved in our lives in this way."

I was starting to thaw out a little and maybe back up from the brink.

"I don't get it, but maybe that's something we can figure out later if we're still together." I paused, then plunged ahead with the question I really needed answered. "So, just to be clear, you aren't trying to dump me in some convoluted, very public way?" I asked. I had to know.

"No! No, Andy-" she started to say more but stopped.

"You want to stay together?" Another thing I wanted to be certain of before going any further.

"Yes, I want to stay together with you," she said. Robyn looked at me, and I realized she wanted some positive statement as much as I did.

"Me too, Robyn. Very much so." That was settled, I hoped. Now that I had calmed down a lot, I felt safe to ask, "Did they hurt you? In any way? No matter how small?"

"God no, Andy. Well, my pride at being fooled and tricked. Being nude in front of my friends is nothing new, but they decided to play their little games with me. They tied me up a few times, but they said it was practice for when you got to have your way with me. It was a little uncomfortable, but I think they were also worried I might take a frying pan to someone's head. I was a little more angry than I usually get."

The way she was blushing now suggested that her friends may have taken more liberties than she was willing to admit. My eyes narrowed. Yes, I was ready to leave my wife over what she had done to me, at least when I thought the worst, but I was ready to do far worse over what they had done to her.

"On the other hand," she said, "I got my hair styled and my nails done." She paused so long I thought she was done. She blushed. "I got some new clothes too."

A thought hit me. One of those intuitive leaps that Robyn seemed to be impressed by. "I guess we both learned a few things."

"Now what?" she asked.

"I still have a few questions." She nodded for me to go on. "Who was in on this?" I asked the question as levelly as I could, but she still looked worried.

"No paybacks, Andy."

"One payback," I said. "I want the names of everyone involved, no matter how small their involvement was. They're your friends, so you can treat them as you please, but I don't ever want to see them again. Don't include me in any group outings. If you invite them to the house, tell me in advance so I can make plans to be somewhere else. And let them know, too. I wasn't really their friend to start with, but we are quits now."

"Done," she said quickly. Misinterpreting her entirely, I wondered how long it would be before she started prying at the edges of that condition. On the other hand, her friends thought I was a bastard, for good reason, and I'm sure they wanted nothing to do with me. "What else?"

"How much did this cost?" I asked. She winced.

"Not as much as you might think. They all pitched in. Not counting whatever you spent today on that haircut and those new clothes, I'm in for about fourteen hundred," she said. "Plus whatever Henry charges us," she added, trying a smile out on me.

My brain went into overdrive, doing the multiplication and coming up with a total. Damn. I hope they spent all that on the security door. I quit running the numbers. Robyn was more important. Somewhere in the last twenty minutes or so, she had stopped being my future ex-wife. When that realization hit home, my entire body relaxed.

The resolution of all that tension let my thoughts start flowing. One ugly thing jumped out in the process. Her friends had spent a lot of money, time, and effort setting up this insanity. They didn't do this as a casual joke or for a day's worth of laughs. What they planned to do with me and my wife was unclear, but the more I thought about the possibilities, the madder I was getting.

"What did they do to you last night and this morning?" I asked, finally realizing that something was really bothering Robyn, and for once it wasn't me. Her face twisted, and I belatedly understood that I was not the injured party here.

"I… You…" she started. Something shifted in her head, like maybe she saw that I was ready to listen.

She looked straight into my eyes and spoke again, softly, but clearly.

"They tied me to the bed, the same way I did you, spread out in an X, but without an escape route," she said. She stopped, watching me.

I stayed calm. "Go ahead," I said, watching her emotions play out on her face.

"They teased me. Stephanie and Heather. Carrie and Bobbi stayed at the house to watch you. There were others helping too, but it was mostly those four. Stephanie laid down on the bed beside me. She ran her fingers along my arms and my face. She never touched me anywhere… intimate.

"But she kept up a constant stream of explicit suggestions. She whispered her thoughts about how I would look with a vibrator on my crotch. She even got one out and turned it on, but she didn't touch me with it. She put it between her own legs and said after watching our friends orgasm from it, I would beg to have them try it on me. She told me about a game they wanted to try. Would you and I know each other if we were gagged and blindfolded separately and then brought together. She hinted that we would end up fucking each other like that."

I wanted to hold her, but I felt just reaching for her would be wrong. I was too stunned to be angry, which was an unimaginable first for me. She was trembling, nearly shaking, but she wasn't done.

"Stephanie decided to dress me. White stockings. Tight white thing I thought was a girdle but she called it a waist cincher. That was all. She was careful, only releasing one leg at a time and always holding on tight while Heather put the stockings on me and attached the garter tabs. Stephanie massaged my feet through the nylon for a few minutes, then tickled them, then buckled some very tall, white, strappy stilettos onto me. They admired their handiwork for a few minutes, then they hogtied me." She stopped, and I could see she was struggling to go further.

"That's enough, Robyn," I said softly. "I don't need to hear more."

"Yes you do. I fucked this up so thoroughly. It was supposed to be a game. A dumb game. They're my friends. Well, they were," she said. Then she continued as though there had been no interruption. "They tied my ankles together, and then my knees. Then they released my arms and I thought I might punch one of them, but they were too strong, too prepared. I was rolled over on my belly, and they tied my wrists behind my back. Then they tied my arms together at my elbows."

She went through the motions as she spoke, first putting her wrists behind her, palm to palm, then pushing her elbows together. They nearly touched. I imagined with rope cinched around them, they would touch. Her chest pushed out. For a moment, I couldn't understand why I was suddenly enveloped in a cold fury instead of getting hard at the vision of Robyn dressed and restrained as I had sometimes desired her.


"No." She inhaled deeply. "I need to get this out."

I nodded silently. I could bear to hear the rest, but I didn't think I wanted to. She continued.

"Heather spanked me. First with her hand, then with a flexible piece of leather, a slapper, I think it's called. After a lot of strokes with that, they switched to a paddle. I'm probably still red. I think she almost got off on it. They tied a rope to the loops around my ankles and then joined it to the one at my wrists. Heather took her sweet time pulling my ankles to my hands.

"While Heather tightened the hogtie, Stephanie kept up a running commentary. How hot I looked. How much she wanted me. How much of a tease I was. To you. To her. How badly she wanted to watch us together and then have me to herself after you were exhausted. Heather blindfolded me. Then they either had sex right there in front of me, or they acted it out very convincingly. Eventually, I fell asleep like that, hogtied, ass stinging, listening to them whisper and laugh and moan."

Robyn stopped as though she had run out of words. She was shaking harder now, and I moved out of instinct, edging closer to her, getting into her space. Her arms wrapped around me. I held her close while she just breathed and slowly regained her control.

"A part of me was laughing inside when you turned the tables. A small part of me wanted something bad to happen to Stephanie, but I also don't think they are worth going to prison over," she whispered to me.

I just held her, feeling the warmth of her, breathing in her scent. We sat like that for minutes, holding each other as though we would never let go. As the time passed, she relaxed and I felt the weight of her press against me. The texture of her blouse felt strange, which is when I figured out there was more beneath it than just a bra. My fingers slid over the fabric. She twitched when I touched something hard and unyielding.

"What's under your shirt?"

"A leather bustier," she said, tonelessly.

"Locked on?"


"What else is locked on?" I asked.

"Garter belt and shoes," she said. She pulled back a little, just far enough to look at me.

"I have Deacon's utility knife in my pocket. We can cut that stuff off you any time you want," I said. She gave me that exasperated look that was becoming so familiar.

"I'm good. If we don't get the keys by dinner, we'll buy some safety shears and you can free me," she said. "What now?"

"A few more questions?" I said, pausing to see how she reacted. She looked like she was about to be sick, but she nodded for me to go ahead. "Did they video you too? Where is it? Where is the video you've been recording on your little webcams?"

"They didn't say, but I imagine they did. The videos of you were recorded on a PC at the house." She pointed at May. "Your little friend may have recorded to some onboard memory, but once you were out of the house, no broadcasting. We set it up with a password protected website for viewing."

"Videos of me are now mine and mine alone, assuming none of your helpful friends haven't deleted them already. Any and all copies." I gave no wiggle room. "Videos of you are yours, and I don't ever need to see them. But if any of that stuff becomes public…" I let the words trail off.

She nodded, and I could tell she wasn't wild about the turn our conversation had taken. I resisted the temptation to pull out my new phone and try accessing the home network to shut it down.

"How many pictures of us were taken and by who?"

"I told them no pictures!"

"There's pictures, Robyn. You can bet the house on it."

"Okay. You're probably right. Shit."

"I'm not going to make a stink. We'll handle it if it comes up, same as the videos."

Robyn looked at me like I had grown on an extra arm. "You're kidding?"

"No. I'm not happy about it, but it's not worth the aggravation. Plus, unless your pals gave you back all our stuff, and the keys we'll need, maybe I should wait a while before being such an asshole to them."

"Former pals," she said darkly. Then she eyed me, her mood changing even as I watched her. "You still need keys?" she asked. The tone of her voice left no doubt what keys she was asking about.

"Only to the house, Robyn. I know a guy with bolt cutters."

"Oh," she said. "Stupid question." There was another long pause. "I should have known. How many pieces are they in?"

"The corset is intact, except for the locks being cut, some grass stains, a little blood, and general wear and tear."


I shook my head. "After Deacon cut the thing off me, I chopped it into about fifty pieces."

Chapter 8 - Aftermath

The visit with Henry, who charged us for two hours, was anticlimactic, but surprising. He was happy to hear that Robyn and I were staying together. He suggested a marriage counselor, and I politely accepted the counselor's business card.

I beat around the bush asking about trespassers and friends who had borrowed some property and not returned it. That was when the bomb dropped.

Carrie, who is the last person I expected this from, had delivered a box to Henry's office, addressed to me. She must have done it right after I made my getaway with Deacon.

The box included a list of changed phone codes, a set of keys, a bottle of solvent, and the locations of all our property, which was mostly locked up at the house. Everything they wanted to keep from me was in the basement, except the old shotgun and rifle I had inherited from Dad. Stephanie had the guns, and the cash Robyn had been carrying, and the jewelry she had been wearing. I bristled a bit at that, but Robyn explained that her jewelry came off when they did her manicure and hair. She turned red again, but I didn't ask.

Her other belongings that had been with her when she was drafted into the Dumb Game, as she now named it, were in a suitcase on the couch. Our cars and the truck were in the driveway.

Lastly, there was a card addressed to Robyn. It was from Carrie. Robyn read it silently and then aloud to me. It contained a nicely penned apology and an offer to help return the house to its proper condition. Well, that was just lovely.

"I could patch things up with them, Andy. Some of them," she said. "This whole mess was my idea to start with, even if they interfered with my plan, and I know you scared them with your reactions. Even I didn't think it would get so hairy." She said these things out loud, but she sounded uncertain and still very angry. She seemed to be trying on the idea for size.

"You do what you need to do with them. Just without me around, but don't forget, it wasn't all your idea," I said. I got hugged for that, long and hard, right there in Henry's office.

We talked about walking to the house, but in the end we shared a taxi ride home when it was all over.

We still had a ton of work to do, but we were home. Well, we were home briefly. Robyn mentioned that her friends thought we would just jump back into a maybe less aggressive version of the Dumb Game. I decided to decline any such generous offer. Robyn hesitated, and for a moment, I thought she was going to try persuading me to reconsider doing something in private, or maybe she was going to ask me to read her now absent letter. What I couldn't read was my wife. None of her cues or vibes made sense to me at the moment.

"If I see those women again, in this house, there will be trouble," I said. I tried to project calm composure, but I don't think it worked.


I thought about it for a few more seconds. Would playing a 'sexy sex game' with Robyn, one that shattered all the boundaries I ever thought I had, be so terrible? Maybe if it was just her and only her playing with me and only me, at some distant future date when we had talked out all these issues, and when the memory of this shit sucking day had faded.

I shifted gears to the here and now.

In my infinite paranoia, I put the video computer in the trunk, then booked us a hotel suite in the state capital, two counties away. We stayed there until I arranged to have the locks changed, the alarm system inspected, the spy cams removed, the computers checked for malware, and the opened packages of food thrown out. Robyn thought it was overkill, but she didn't try to stop me. As we drove, it occurred to me that if the car was bugged, we might get some visitors.

I exhaled, long and hard enough that Robyn looked over at me. She put her hand on my leg, the first time she had touched me since the hug in Henry's office. At some point, I needed to relax my vigilance. When I remembered that the hotel I had chosen had secure parking, I finally did relax a little.

That first night in the hotel, she stripped my new shirt off to see about getting the last of the boob plastic and adhesive removed.

"What happened?" she asked, pointing at the oversize band-aids.

"Uh… That's the worst of the scratches, and I didn't want it to get infected," I said, showing her all the holly leaf scratches on my arms, neck, and shoulders. She didn't press the question, and I was glad not to have to lie. Technically, it was the worst scratch I had gotten today.

She gingerly removed the remaining bits of fake boob. Then she cleaned the adhesive off and massaged lotion into my skin in the numerous places it had been abused. She rubbed the top of my head, laughing at the texture of my buzz cut. Then I found out the hair extensions had been bonded to my actual scalp and would need time to come off.

I took this news in stride. I look forward to the day when she stops being amazed by the absence of outbursts of temper from me. I look forward to the day when I stop having them.

"What can I do for you?" I said. The look this earned me proclaimed that I had said the wrong thing yet again. "Sorry," I said, getting up and grabbing my shirt. Her expression turned to alarm when I pulled it over my head.

"What are you doing?" She got up and put her hands over mine.

"Going for a walk."

"Please don't," she said. I massaged the bridge of my nose. The headache that was building would be epic, I could just tell.

"Honey, I'm confused. I asked you what you wanted, and you glared at me. I get up to give you some space to process the awful day we've both had, and you stop me in my tracks. Would you like a snack? A bottle of wine? A cocktail? Maybe I can read you a bedtime story?" The funny thing was, as exasperated as I was, I was not mad, just voicing my painful confusion.

Exasperated, I thought. There it was again.

"What do you want to do?" she said. "Really want to do? And if you say go for a walk, you have to carry me on your shoulders."

"I don't know what I'm allowed to want, anymore," I said, feeling one of those flashes of intuition I supposedly have.

"What you want is your business," she said, turning my own words around on me. "What you ask for is your business. What I'm willing to do is my business. But I swear, I will not get mad at you for asking, if you are as nice and thoughtful as you've been with me today."

"I want you, out of those clothes, in this bed, with me, out of these clothes, and in this bed with you," I said.

"Let me get yours first," Robyn said. She slid my pants off and then my underwear. Squatting down on the floor to get my feet out of my jeans, she was eye level with my hard cock. "I don't think I've seen you this hairless since we were kids," she said.

Before I could reply, she opened her mouth and slipped her lips over the head of my dick. That was the end of coherent thought for me. The pain, the stress, the anger, it all slipped away as my beautiful, awesome wife kissed, tongued, and teased my now throbbing erection. She worked her way down its length, wetting every bit of skin with her tongue. She paused to caress my balls with her mouth, and the absence of hair made the sensation incredibly intense. I was close, which she knew.

"If I finish you off, will you still have the energy to do me?" she purred before going back to kissing the head of my throbbing hard-on.

"I think so," I said.

"Mmmm," she answered, engulfing several inches of my cock. She bounced up and down for a few strokes, teasing, sometimes making soft sounds that vibrated my flesh and seemed to pound straight into my brain. She came up to her knees and reached around me, hugging my hips and drawing us closer together. My shaft disappeared into her mouth. Her lips teased my balls for a few seconds, then she pulled back just long enough for a deep breath before sliding forward again.

She looked up at me. Her hazel eyes were still a little red from the roller coaster emotions of the day, but they also glittered with lust. Robyn pulled back one more time and then slid forward, still making eye contact. She winked at me. My orgasm erupted into her mouth. She licked and teased my cock until my shaking spasms subsided and my knees threatened to buckle.

Instead of buckling, I managed to fold them until I was sitting next to her on the floor. We kissed, and I didn't care where her mouth had just been or what was mixed with her spit.

"You know, being shaved down here," she squeezed me gently, "makes that much nicer, if you catch my drift."

"I think we can come to some agreement on that. It's not like the pubic hair police are going to bust down our door in the middle of the night," I said, still a little woozy. She laughed.

"You have such a way with words."

"Let me show you a few other tricks I know," I said, standing up and hauling her to her feet. My fingers worked the buttons on her blouse. I paused to lay the garment on the chair instead of leaving it on the floor with my clothes. The bustier was soft leather, fitting her tightly, and maybe offering a little bit of shaping. She was every bit as gorgeous in it as I had ever imagined. She saw me smile.

"You really do like this, don't you?" she asked.

"You are so beautiful," I said. "Not just your body, but through and through. Sit down so I can get your shoes."

"I'll bet the slacks would come off over the shoes, if you're careful."

I unfastened her pants and let them fall as she sat down. She laid back on the bed and raised her legs. I need to quit being amazed by her actions and reactions. Every time I think I know what to expect, she throws something new at me. Getting the pants off over her shoes was easier than I expected. I helped her stand back up. She looked surprised.

Still holding her hand, I regarded her long, lean, black and gray clad body. On any other day, my cock would have been hard and ready. Right now it needed just a little more time. Plus, I was enjoying the moment. I lifted our linked arms and spun her about. The bustier sported tiny padlocks at the top, middle, and bottom, holding what I now knew would be a panel covering the laces or zipper.

The leather garter belt was cleverly locked on as well, using a set of rings and two more tiny locks. I looked down and noticed that her shoes had small locks securing the little straps. I felt a flash of nausea, thinking about the similar experiences we had shared separately over the past day. My gaze shifted to her backside, which was mostly covered by a pair of lacy black panties. I could see the pink tinged skin, the lingering results of her time as Heather's play toy. I looked at her wrists. At least there were no rope marks still visible, but I could imagine the invisible marks that she would see for weeks or months or years to come.

I let go of Robyn and stepped toward the ring of keys laying on the dresser. "Let's get you out of that stuff." Even in my own ears, my voice sounded a little too forceful and hard.

"Wait," she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "What's bothering you?"

My thoughts took forever to collect. "I know I was an asshole for pestering you about what I wanted you to wear, or to do, but I never, ever, would have forced you."

"Like I did to you," she said, small and quiet. "There's a mood killer."

I blinked. She was right. I had gone cold. "Well, yes, you did it to me, but I was referring to what your dickhead friends did to you. Yes, I think you're gorgeous in that outfit, but it feels wrong now." I struggled to find the right word, "Tainted."

"My friends did this without my consent, true, but I've been on my own since lunch. After your escape, Heather let me redo my hair and makeup, bought my lunch, gave me my wallet with my driver's license and told me to meet you at Henry's and 'straighten out this misunderstanding' I believe she said. It wouldn't have been easy, but I could have changed anytime."

I bristled some more. "Heather gave you. Heather let you." My hands flexed, and I took several deep breaths to purge the really ugly thoughts I was having. Robyn waited, silent and still. "Why didn't you take off, like I did?"

"I don't know. I was more embarrassed than furious? It seemed fair? Penance? Make up sex?" she said. Neither of us seemed to be certain about anything right now.

"Now what?" I asked. Would that be my default mode now and forever? Always asking, worried about overstepping some constantly changing invisible boundary?

She laughed. "I was going to ask you that."

My stomach growled. In all the excitement, we had not had dinner, and it was late.

"I guess I know your answer to that question!" She laughed some more. It was good to hear her laugh.

"I could stand to eat something. I have no idea what our options are at this hour, though."

She picked up the keys and some clothes out of her suitcase. As she headed for the bathroom, she looked over her shoulder at me. "We'll figure something out."


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