Softly humming a favorite tune, Walter Goodman strode slowly across his back yard. A tall, slim man in his late forties, Walt was well known in the small town for his quiet, friendly ways. He was equally well known for his steely will. This combination had earned him widespread respect in town, and there were many who proudly called him friend. Today, he was on his way to visit his newest friend.
It had been two months since Tasha, along with her boyfriend Jake, had moved into the trailer on the lot behind Walt's property. Walt and Tasha had hit it off from the start, quickly becoming friends. Not so with Jake. Quiet, secretive, there was something about Tasha's boyfriend that didn't seem quite right with Walt. Still, he would respect Tasha's decisions. If she wanted to live with someone like Jake, that was her choice to make.
Now, standing on the trailer's porch, he raised his hand to knock on the door, only to pause when an ominous crack sounded from within. When the sound was repeated, he reached instead for the doorknob. Finding the door unlocked, he slipped inside, making his way across the living room and down the short hall. Pausing in the doorway, he quickly took in the scene within.
Tasha stood naked beside the bed. From her upstretched hands, rope led up to a sturdy ring affixed to the ceiling. Gagged and blindfolded, she dangled from the ropes holding her upright. On her back, three red lines leaked tiny drops of blood. Behind her, equally naked, Jake drew back his hand, a long, braided whip trailing from his grasp.
Stepping forward, Walt grasped a handful of Jake's hair, yanking backward. His other hand, reaching lower, slid between Jake's parted thighs to grasp his sack, squeezing. As the younger man froze from the sudden pain, Walt moved closer until his lips brushed Jake's ear.
"Not a word," he whispered, giving a slight squeeze to Jake's sack. "Not a sound." After a quick glance around, he released Jake's hair to grab several things from the dresser beside the door. He then pulled Jake from the room, forcing the younger man to stagger backwards until they reached the kitchen.
Reaching over Jake's shoulder, Walt dangled a pair of handcuffs before the younger man's eyes. "Put these on," he instructed, "hands behind you." Cautiously, the younger man complied, wincing when Walt squeezed the cuffs with his free hand, tightening them.
"Knees." Together, the two men lowered themselves to the floor. Walt cuffed one of Jake's ankles, looping the connecting chain over that of the wrist cuffs before applying the second cuff to his other ankle. Releasing his grip on the younger man's sack, Walt quickly stuffed a gag into his mouth, pulling the straps tight before buckling them.
"I hope for your sake," he said, rising to stand looking down at the helpless man, "that there was no serious damage done." Turning, he moved back down the hall.
In the bedroom, Tasha still dangled from her ropes, her head turning from side to side as she tried to figure out what was happening. For a moment, Walt examined her bleeding back, before turning his attention to the room. Seeing a jar of ointment on the dresser, he began gently applying its contents to the welts on Tasha's back.
At the first touch, Tasha whimpered into her gag, her whole body tensing. Carefully, gently, Walt applied the ointment, making sure to cover each welt completely. He then turned his attention to the rest of her body, eyes narrowing at the sight of mottled skin on her ass.
Moving to stand in front of the helpless woman, Walt's eyes took in her large, firm breasts. Here, too, were bruises. Shaking his head, he began gently stroking the soft skin. Tasha's body tensed even more. Then, as if realizing that there was no further pain forthcoming, she began slowly to relax.
Continuing to stroke her breasts, Walt watched as her nipples hardened. Tasha shuffled her feet, easing her body forward and pressing her breasts against his hands. Smiling, Walt focused his attention on her nipples, hearing her moan softly as he gently pinched the hardened buds.
For a moment, Walt considered what he was doing. Tasha, he thought, had no idea it was him touching her. She probably thought it was Jake. Still, the girl had already suffered enough, he decided. She deserved at least some pleasure out of this.
Leaning forward, he took on hard nipple between his lips, sucking gently. At the same time, he let one of his hands drift down her body, slipping between thighs that parted beneath his hand. Slowly, gently, he probed her most sensitive areas, carefully building her arousal. Then, when her moans took on an urgent, pleading note, he found her clit. Tasha's body tensed again, this time from the force of the orgasm that swept through her.
As her body began to relax, Walt reached up and untied the rope holding her wrists. Spent, Tasha sagged to her knees. One hand reached up toward her blindfold, but Walt grasped her wrist stopping her. Tasha remained silent, offering no resistance as Walt pulled her hands behind her, securing them with yet another set of cuffs from atop the dresser. Gently, he drew her to her feet and led her to the kitchen.
Jake's eyes widened over his gag as Walt led Tasha to stand in front of him. Gently, Walt drew the bound girl down to her knees. A final set of cuffs quickly encircled her ankles, the chain looped over her wrist cuffs.
Leaning down, Walt softly kissed the top of Tasha's head. Then, placing a key in her hand, he rose and let himself out. As he walked back toward his own house, he wondered what her reaction would be to the sight that would greet her when she removed her blindfold.
Just over a half hour later, his phone rang. "Walt? Could you come over for a second, please?"
When Walt entered the trailer this time, it was to find Jake gone. Tasha, now wearing a light robe, greeted him with a troubled look on her lovely face. "We need to talk," she said, ushering him into the living room.
"I'm sorry," she continued, once they were seated, "but you can't come over any more."
"Why not?" At this, her eyes fell.
"Jake says you're not welcome here any more," she said softly. "He says I'm not allowed to see you, or talk to you, for any reason."
Walt frowned. "I would think that would be your decision," he said.
Tasha shook her head. "Jake makes the decisions," she replied softly.
Walt's frown deepened. He'd always known Tasha to be a bit timid, but he never dreamed it went so far. "Did he say why I'm not to be allowed here?"
Tasha shook her head. "But I know," she said. "You did that to Jake. And you...." Her body shivered slightly. "You touched me." For a moment, she fell silent, then her eyes rose to meet his.
"Jake doesn't touch me that way," she said slowly. "When he touches me, it hurts. When you touched me, it felt good. I wish I could be touched that way again, but Jake will never allow it. He says you are never to set foot in his home again."
Walt gazed thoughtfully at Tasha. "Is Jake's name on the lease?" Puzzled, she shook her head. "I see you go to work every day, but he never seems to go anywhere except with his friends. Does he pay the bills?" Another slow shake of the head. "Then I'd say it's your home, not his."
"But," Tasha protested weakly, "Jake makes the decisions. I'm.... well, I'm not very good at things like that."
Slowly, Walt began to smile. "So you need someone else to be in charge?" At Tasha's slow nod, his smile widened. "I think I can help you with that."
"What are you doing here?"
Smiling at the anger on Jake's face, Walt rose to his feet. As he did, Tasha entered the living room from the hall. "Waiting for you, actually," Walt replied. "Now that you're here, I'll be leaving."
"And I'm leaving with him," Tasha said in a surprisingly firm voice, sliding one arm around Walt's waist. "Almost done packing," she said softly, purring as Walt's arm encircled her.
"Did you make the calls?" At this, Tasha nodded.
"Lights, gas, water and phone will all be shut off by the end of the day," she replied. And the landlord knows I'm moving out. I told him he could do whatever he likes with the stuff left behind in here."
"You can't do that!" Jake's eyes widened. "Call them all back and say you made a mistake. Put things back the way they should be, and get him out of here."
Tasha's shoulders straightened. "No," she said clearly, then laughed softly. "That felt good to say," she remarked, glancing at Walt. Turning her attention back to Jake, she said, "You've given your last order to me. And you've hurt me for the last time. You might want to get your stuff out of here, before the landlord claims the rest. Oh, and leave the keys. The truck's in my name, so if you try to leave in it, I'll report it stolen."
Snarling, Jake slammed the keys onto the counter before storming out the door. Nodding slowly, Tasha glanced at Walt.
"I'll be done in a few more minutes," she said, "and then we can start moving my things to your house." She shivered slightly. "Once we're done, will you.... will you touch me again?"
Walt smiled, gently kissing the top of her head. "Again," he replied softly, "and again, and again. I mean for you to feel very good."
Tasha shivered again. "Yes, Master," she said softly. "Thank you Master."
"So the sooner you get done...." Walt grinned at the sight of Tasha dashing toward the bedroom. First a neighbor, he thought, then a friend. And now? His grin turned into a contented smile. Turning toward the bedroom to help Tasha, only one thought troubled him.
Where am I going to park the truck?
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