David sat at his desk, his attention shifting between his computer screen and the paperwork scattered in front of him. The office was quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional clack of his keyboard and the faint hum coming from under his desk. He had decided to work from home today, the peace and quiet of his study was much more preferable to the hustle and bustle of the firm. Plus it meant he had his new favorite toy at his disposal.
Marie had been quite a bit more agreeable since the night at the auction house. His well-timed interference had earned him not only her gratitude but her disposition had also changed. It was as though she had accepted her place. It wasn't just in the bedroom either. She was more attentive in her duties around the house, more eager to please and obey. For example, there had been a time when the only way Marie would service him under his desk was through force, bondage and his desk's unique mechanisms.
Now as he lowered his gaze to watch her eagerly bob her head up and down on his cock, he couldn't help but feel a sense of victory. Her eyes were locked onto his, full of submission and need. Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and her mouth was a wet, hungry cavern that took him in greedily. It had taken some time, but the fiery woman who had once fought him at every turn was now his devoted servant just like he'd hoped she'd become.
If things kept going the way they were, he'd start bringing her to the clubs with him, let her see the true underbelly of the lifestyle she'd been dragged into. Maybe even show her off a bit, see how she'd react to being displayed for others' pleasure. But that was a thought for another time, for now he had business to attend to and she had a mouth full of cock.
Speaking of, the email notification chimed on his computer, pulling David's attention away from Marie. Glancing at the screen, his eyes narrowed at the sender's name: Gerald Benson. The subject line was even more alarming: "Re: The Truth Unveiled." Clicking it open, the message was a string of accusations, each line more alarming than the last. Gerald claimed to know everything—about the financial irregularities, about Marie's disappearance, and even about David's involvement in his ex-wife's mysterious vanishing. The audacity of the man, thinking he could take on someone like him with such flimsy evidence.
He didn't know what the man could possibly have on him, after all he'd tied up all the loose ends that could possibly… David's gaze roamed back up to the mention of his ex-wife and paused. If Gerald managed to get his wife's divorce attorney – the one he'd dug up dirt on and coerced into helping his divorce to sneak by the judge – to spill something, then things might get complicated.
"Ugh…" David grunted as Marie gave a particularly deep-throated suck, his cock pushing against the back of her throat. "Good girl," he murmured, reaching down to stroke her hair as his thoughts drifted back to the email.
That's when his gaze drifted back to Marie and her current state of attire. She was dressed in pure white lingerie, the brightness of it contrasting heavily with the darkness of the room. It was a sight that never failed to stir his cock, her curves and dips highlighted by the almost innocent color scheme. Her wrists were tied behind her back with a white silk scarf that matched the garter belt around her thighs. The way she looked up at him with those big brown eyes, full of need and obedience, it was like a fucking dream come true.
Her high heels bounced against the floor as she shifted herself to get a better angle. The white mules she wore matched the pristine white lingerie that hugged her body, creating a kinky contrast against her dark skin. That's when he remembered the dirt he'd used against his ex-wife's divorce attorney, Taylor Monroe. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he thought about the portfolio Oswald had brought to him, detailing her late night visits to a swanky BDSM club uptown. The woman had been a shark in the courtroom, but a submissive little kitten in the dungeon.
To top it off, her boyfriend at the time had apparently quite enjoyed videoing their little escapades. The footage had been… thorough. It had shown a side of her that no one in their right mind would want their colleagues or clients to see. And David had made sure she knew it. He had her by the throat, and she had swallowed every inch of his metaphorical cock with a desperate gulp to keep him quiet.
Now however, if Gerald had gotten his hands on any of that, things could get very messy indeed. He needed to shut this down anyway he could, quickly and permanently. Thinking of recent events a smile played across his face. He had a feeling that if all went according to plan his last loose ends would be well and truly "tied up".
But first…
David reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pack of earplugs. He leaned over, his hand on the back of Marie's head, keeping her in place as he gently slid the soft foam into her ears. Her eyes went wide for a moment when she realized what was happening, but then she calmed down as it wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. She knew that when he didn't want her to hear something, it was usually for her own good.
Personally David just didn't want her training to be set back over the phone call he was about to place. With a pat on her head he motioned for her to continue and watched her as she eagerly obeyed, her eyes never leaving his as she started suckling once again. As she worked him over, David picked up the phone on his desk and dialed the number from memory, waiting for the line to connect. The phone only rang twice before a feminine voice with a hint of a British accent picked up.
"Mr. Wolfe, this is a surprise," the voice on the other end of the line sounded uncomfortable, "I didn't expect to hear from you after our little… misunderstanding, are you looking for Titus?"
"Lydia, I'm sure it is a surprise, but I assure you it's not a social call," David said with a chuckle, his grip on the phone tightening. "I've had a bit of a situation arise, and I think given the way you nearly sold off my beloved Marie, it'd be fair to say you owe me one."
"What are you talking about?" Lydia's voice was shaky, but David could sense the underlying anger. "I don't…"
"Come now, Lydia," David interrupted, his voice smoother than silk, "Let's not play games. You know exactly what I mean."
"Mr. Wolfe I… uh fine, what can I do to help you?" Lydia's voice was filled with a mix of fear and resentment.
"I need you to make a little arrangement, Lydia," David's tone was cold and calculated, "I need Taylor Monroe to… vanish."
"…who?"
The question was faint, barely audible over the muffled sounds of David's desk chair creaking and the wet smack of Marie's lips around his cock. Stroking her hair, David leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked onto hers as he spoke into the phone, "Taylor Monroe, my ex-wife's divorce attorney, she might be a bit of a problem for me and I need her to go away."
"That sounds like a problem for a hit man, why call us?"
"Because, Ms. Monroe is sexy… young… and a trained submissive." David grinned as he practically heard the gears turning in Lydia's mind. "And with the Halloween gala coming up I know you'll need all the fresh meat you can find for the evening's auction."
"…she's trained?" came Lydia's voice over the line, her tone changing from cautious to curious, "And you say she's a submissive?"
"I have video and photographic evidence of her… extracurricular activities, so I'm sure she would fetch quite a price at your little shindig," David said, his voice dropping to a murmur as he watched Marie lick up and down his shaft with a hunger that made his stomach tighten. "And I can even tell you where to find her at the most… opportune moment to acquire her."
A few moments of tense silence hung in the air as Lydia processed the information. Then, her voice grew more business-like, "Does she have an owner?"
"She does, but he's some two bit nobody with nothing to his name and no connections," David said, stroking Marie's hair as she worked her mouth over his cock. "So Titus will never know you broke his rules…"
Lydia's voice grew more pleasant as the wheels of opportunity turned in her mind, "Alright, Mr. Wolfe. I see your point and I trust our previous indiscretion will be forgotten."
"What indiscretion?" David asked, his tone feigned innocence as Lydia's mind raced. He knew she had a knack for spinning situations to her advantage, and he was about to hand her the golden opportunity on a silver platter.
"Very well, send me the details of her whereabouts and the… evidence you mentioned," Lydia said, the excitement in her voice palpable, "We'll handle it from there."
With a smug smile, David ended the call and tightly gripped Marie's hair, pulling her off his cock with a pop. She looked up at him with a questioning gaze, the earplugs still in place. He leaned down and pulled out one of the earplugs, whispering in her ear, "You've done well, so now it's time for your reward."
He stood her up and bent her over the desk, her cheek resting on the cool wooden surface. David put his hand on the small of her back, pushing her down firmly. With the other hand, he dragged the mouse of his computer and brought up the email with Taylor's information. His fingers hovered over the send button, a silent promise of her fate.
Lining up his cock with Marie's pussy, David felt a thrill of power as she whimpered and her eyes widened in anticipation. He leaned over, his breath hot against her ear. "You've been such a good girl, Marie," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.
With that he clicked send and let out a sigh of relief. He could feel the weight of his decision pressing down on him, but the thrill of power that surged through his body at the thought of Taylor's fate was too great to ignore. He knew he had made the right choice. Closing his laptop, he turned his full attention to the woman before him.
He slid into her with a force that made her gasp, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the room. He watched her in the reflection of the window, her body moving in tandem with his thrusts. The white lace of her lingerie stark against the dark wood of the desk. He gripped her hips, pulling her back into him, her breasts bouncing with each movement.
He'd do anything to preserve his image, his power. And with Taylor out of the picture, Gerald would have no leverage. The thought of her being claimed by another man, used and abused, brought a dark satisfaction to David. Who knows in the end maybe she'd even find some twisted kind of peace in her new role.
~•~ Taylor ~•~
I sighed a breath of relief as the email confirming my week's leave was sent. The relentless hammering of cases and endless stacks of paperwork had left me drained. But it was more than just that; the persistent and unsettling calls from Mr. Benson over the past few days had made me feel like I was being watched.
Damn that Wolfe, my reputation had been solid gold until the blackmailing bastard had gotten his hands on those photos and videos. It had been a mistake, a lapse in judgment that I had paid for dearly. But I had to admit, he had played his hand well. He had all the power in this twisted game, and I had been foolish enough to underestimate him.
Every day since then I had done my best not to think of what happened to Cassandra Wolfe, the guilt alone ate away at me. I was a defender of women and while she did strike me as a two timing bitch, I had never wished such a fate upon her. But now, with Gerald Benson breathing down my neck and David Wolfe holding the strings of my destruction, I had to play by their rules. I had to survive, had to find a way to break free from this cage of deceit and debauchery that had been built around me.
I couldn't ignore Mr. Benson forever, and if David Wolfe had managed to find out my secret there was always a chance he would too and then I'd be well and truly screwed. With trembling hands, I picked up my phone and dialed Jason's number. I needed a distraction like I needed my next breath, something to take my mind off the impending doom that was sure to follow.
"Hey baby, I was just thinking about you," Jason's smooth voice cooed through the phone, "how's the day treating you?"
I took a deep breath, trying to push aside the dark thoughts that were swirling in my head. "Sir… I need a night out," I said, not even bothering to be subtle.
"Straight to slave mode eh, does my little whore need a night at the club?" My boyfriend of seven months, Jason, chuckled darkly. "Very well, I'll pick you out something to wear and pick you up in an hour."
The thought of the night ahead sent a shiver down my spine, a delicious mix of excitement and fear. My relationship with Jason was still in its honeymoon phase, and I cherished every moment of it. After the horror show that had been my last relationship, I reveled in the thrill of each new experience with him. He had a way of making me feel both safe and exposed, a thrilling dance of dominance and submission that was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.
He also didn't see the need to document our every sexual encounter, which is what led me to being blackmailed by Wolfe in the first place. Closing my laptop I stood and stretched my legs, the leather of the chair groaning in protest. Walking over to the full length mirror on the other side of the room, I took in my reflection.
My straight brunette hair fell in thick waves down my back, reaching just below my shoulder blades. The navy colored short business suit was tailored to perfection, hugging my body just right to show off my C-cup breasts. The skirt was modest yet tantalizingly short, revealing a hint of my creamy thighs every time I took a step. The matching blazer was unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of the crisp white blouse beneath which was slightly sheer, allowing my purple bra to peek through.
4-inch peep toed stilettos clicked against the hardwood floor of my law office as I gave myself one final appraisal in the mirror. At 5'2", my figure was a mix of petite and curvy. The suit did its job of showcasing my assets while still maintaining a professional aura. I knew tonight, however, the suit would be gone, and my true nature would be on full display.
My heart raced with excitement as I thought about the club. The smell of leather, the feel of cold steel on my skin, the thrill of being bound and used by a dominant man who knew my desires better than I did. I had always loved the rush that came with submission, the way it made me feel alive and desired, a contrast to the stifling control I had to maintain in my professional life.
The next hour dragged by and I had to restrain myself from a little preshow for myself. I knew if I came even once before Jason got here, he'd be furious. He liked to be in charge of my pleasure, and I had learned quickly that disobedience had consequences that were both painful and delicious.
Jason was by city standards… a nobody, but when his deft hands had first touched me, I knew he was something special. He didn’t need a fancy office or a penthouse suite to make me feel like a queen, he had something much more valuable. He knew how to give me what I truly craved, a chance to let go of control.
Finally the clock struck eight, and on the dot my cell chirped with a message from Jason. "Ready for your pick-up, slave?" it read. A smirk played on my lips as I typed back, "Yes, Sir."
"Then get your fuckable little ass out here," he responded immediately, and I felt a jolt of excitement at his command. I grabbed my purse and the keys to my apartment, knowing better than to keep him waiting.
Walking out to his delivery truck was like stepping into another world, one where the shackles of my daily life were left behind. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the stuffy office, and the sound of the city outside seemed to pulse with a rhythm that resonated with my desires. The truck was parked in the alleyway behind my office, a block away from the bustling street. Its large, unmarked exterior looked out of place next to the luxury cars and townhouses that lined the street.
Like I said, Jason was a nobody by the world's standards, but to me, he was everything. As I walked out to his delivery truck, the contrast between my usual high-heeled stride and the cold pavement of the alley was exhilarating. The neon lights from the street reflected off the metal beasts, casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted with every step.
When I neared his truck the backdoor opened and there he was, duffel bag in hand, dressed in all black. He looked like a well dressed mobster ready to claim his prize. "Good evening, Miss Monroe," he said with a smirk as he helped me climb in, his hand lingering on my ass a moment too long.
The doors slammed shut behind me, and the cold metal floor of the truck's interior echoed as I stepped in, my heels clicking against it. Jason's grip on my waist was firm but gentle as he guided me over to a bolted down stool in the center. He dropped the duffel bag at my feet with a thud that made my stomach clench. The anticipation was palpable as he turned to face me, his eyes dark and hungry.
"Slave… strip."
The command was simple, yet it sent a bolt of excitement through my body as I began to unbutton my blouse, my hands shaking slightly with anticipation. Jason's eyes never left me, his gaze a mix of hunger and approval as he watched me reveal my purple lace bra and matching thong beneath. With trembling hands, I slid the skirt down my thighs, feeling the hard metal of the floor against my heels as I wobbled.
My stilettos remained on as I stepped out of the puddle of fabric, feeling the chilly air kiss my legs and the dampness between my thighs. Next came the blouse, which I shrugged off, revealing my bra. The lace was already sticking to my skin, a testament to my earlier arousal. I felt his gaze on me as I reached behind to unclasp it, letting my breasts fall free. They bounced slightly with the movement as I bent over and slid my thong down my legs.
Standing there now in nothing but my high heels I felt a thrill of excitement. My heart was racing, the sound echoing in my ears like a drumline. I knew what was coming next and my body was already preparing for it.
"Heels too."
My heart thundered in my chest as I kicked off the stilettos, feeling the cold metal of the floor against my bare feet. Now that I was completely exposed to him, he approached me, his eyes raking over my body, and I felt the heat of his gaze like a physical caress. The duffel bag at his feet held a world of unknowns, but I knew it contained the tools of our trade.
"Good girl," he murmured as he reached into the bag, pulling out a corset. It was a work of art, black silk with silver buckles that gleamed in the dim light of the truck. The laces were thick and black, contrasting against the shimmering fabric that whispered promises of tight restraint and a body molded to perfection. My breath hitched in my throat as he approached me with it, holding it up for me to see.
"Turn around," he instructed, his voice firm and commanding.
I spun slowly, the cold air brushing over my skin as he stepped closer. The corset looked heavy in his hands, and I could feel the heat of his body as he came closer. He placed the garment around my waist, the fabric cool against my skin, and began to fasten the buckles. Each click was a promise of what was to come, a reminder of the power he held over me. I sucked in my breath as he tightened the laces, the boning digging into my flesh as he pulled them taut.
The cups of the corset pinched slightly as they pressed into my pierced nipples, the sensation causing me to gasp as I felt a rush of heat spread through my body. He timed pulling the laces tighter with each breath I took, a silent symphony of pain and pleasure that grew more intense with every inhale and exhale. The fabric was unforgiving, sculpting my body into the ideal form he desired, and by the time he was done, I could barely breathe.
Next, I was fitted with a pair of elbow-length, black latex gloves. The smooth, cold material gliding over my arms was like a second skin, a sleek and sinister addition to my already erotic ensemble. They fit snug and tight, and I could feel the way my pulse quickened as he began to secure my elbows with buckles to keep the gloves in place.
Following the gloves, Jason pulled out a black latex thong that was so thin it was practically non-existent. He told me to step into it and as I did, I felt the cool material embrace my sex, the barely there design leaving me feeling even more exposed than I already was. The way it hugged my curves, leaving nothing to the imagination, was both terrifying and thrilling. The thong was secured with a thin string that dug into the crevice of my ass, a constant reminder I would feel all night long.
He then produced a micro mini skirt, the fabric so tight and shiny it could have been painted on. As he lifted it over my hips, it clung to my skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. The skirt barely covered my ass, and any movement would leave my pussy and thong on full display.
Standing in front of me, Jason gave me a little push and I fell back onto the stool with an indelicate oomph. Holding up a pair of fishnet stockings, his eyes gleamed with mischief. "You're going to look so good in these," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
My legs felt wobbly as he knelt before me, the cold floor hard against his knees. He rolled the stockings up my legs, the rough material scratching gently against my skin, sending waves of sensation up to my core. The way he took his time, savoring each inch of bare skin as it was covered, made me acutely aware of his control.
Once the stockings were in place, Jason picked up a pair of high heeled mules. They were pleaser heels, so tall and pointed that they looked like they could stab a man's heart. "These will make you feel like the good little whore you know you are," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin as he slid the first one onto my foot. The shoe was a perfect fit, the heel so high that it made me arch my back as I stood, pushing my breasts out. The second shoe followed, and with a wobble, I was standing before him, the mules making me feel both powerful and precariously vulnerable.
Jason then made a spinning motion with his finger, indicating that he wanted me to turn around. I complied, my heart racing as I felt him fasten a collar around my neck. It was made of thick, sturdy leather, with a shiny metal ring at the front that made me feel like a pet waiting for its leash. What I didn't expect was what happened next.
With a tug on my wrists Jason brought them behind my back, and I felt the cool embrace of leather as a long sleeve was shimmied up my arms, the material snug against my skin. Turning my head to see what Jason was up to, I caught a glimpse of an arm binder in the light, a contraption of leather, buckles and laces that would leave me utterly helpless.
It wasn't unusual for submissives to be encased in such contraptions where we were heading, but usually he waited until we were inside before restraining me so thoroughly. The leather was cold and firm as it wrapped around my arms, the laces digging into my flesh as Jason cinched them tightly. My breath caught in my throat as he secured my arms behind my back, the sudden loss of use making me feel even more vulnerable than the corset already did.
With the leather strap bucked around my wrists, Jason moved on to locking a pair of leather cuffs tightly around my ankles. These were a special pair, as they had a secondary strap that would lead under the in-step of my high heel, keeping it bound to my feet.
I wobbled slightly in the heels, my legs feeling unsteady as he led me to the front of the truck. Sitting me down in the passenger seat, he fastened the seatbelt across my body, the leather pressing into my corseted waist and the cold metal of the buckle biting into my skin. The next twenty minutes were a blur, as I reveled in my bondage and all my fears of being seen melted away.
The truck's suspension did little to absorb the bumps and jolts of the road, and every movement sent a new wave of pain and pleasure through me, my body tightly corseted and my limbs secured in their leather restraints. The anticipation was almost unbearable, my breath hitching in my chest as we drew closer to our destination. The vibrations of the engine resonated through my body, making me acutely aware of every inch of exposed flesh and the tightness of the leather and laces that held me in place.
"Feeling better, slave?"
Jason's question cut through the silence as he pulled into the dimly lit parking lot of the club. The engine's rumble faded to a purr as he turned it off, the sudden quiet making my heart pound louder in my chest. I nodded, smiling a little, my eyes never leaving the rearview mirror. The journey had been a mix of fear and excitement, the bondage both grounding and exhilarating.
"Mmmm, yes sir," I spoke in a low purr as Jason attached a leash to my collar, pulling gently but firmly. "I'm ready for whatever you have in store for me tonight."
Jason smirked, his eyes darkening with excitement as he opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. The parking lot was almost full, the sound of distant laughter and music floating from the club's direction. I felt a thrill run through me as he opened my door and unbuckled my seat belt, his movements swift and sure. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I was his to command.
With a firm grip on the leash attached to my collar, he helped me out of the truck, my legs wobbling slightly as they adjusted to the unyielding height of the mules. The skirt barely covered my ass, and the fishnets did nothing to hide the wetness that had soaked the thong. Each step was a battle to keep my balance, but I knew better than to complain. Instead, I took a deep breath and allowed him to lead me through the throng of people, my eyes cast down in submission.
The club was everything I remembered and more. The air was thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and desire, the low lighting casting long shadows across the faces of the patrons. The walls were lined with various pieces of BDSM equipment, and the sounds of whips cracking and moans of pleasure filled the air, creating a symphony of the darkest desires. I felt my heart race as we approached a bar, a sleek and foreboding structure of gleaming chrome and black leather. The bartender, a burly man with piercings and tattoos, eyed me hungrily as Jason stepped up to order our drinks.
"Two whiskey sours," Jason told him, his voice a low rumble that seemed to echo through the room. He took the leash attached to my collar in one hand and the drinks in the other, his confidence unshaken by the bartender's leer. As we made our way to a small table in the corner, I felt the eyes of the other patrons on me, a mix of envy and hunger. The corset and armbinder made it impossible to hide my predicament, and the latex skirt and stockings only served to enhance the illusion of my complete and utter submission.
I was far from the only one in such a state of undress, and that only served to amplify the humiliation that coursed through me. As we moved through the crowded club, I could feel the eyes of other men and women, all dressed in various stages of BDSM attire, scrutinizing my exposed flesh. Some nodded in approval at the craftsmanship of my corset and arm binder, others openly licked their lips at the sight of my bound body. The women in particular watched with a mix of envy and curiosity, their eyes tracing the lines of my restraints with a hunger that mirrored my own.
Once seated, Jason knelt beside me, his hand on my thigh as he offered me a straw with my drink. I leaned over slightly, the leather of the arm binder cutting into my skin as I took a tentative sip, the cool liquid causing a heat to build inside of me. The whiskey burned a fiery path down my throat, a sensation that only served to heighten my arousal. He took his own drink, watching me with a predatory gaze that excited me. The music was loud, a thumping bass that resonated through the floor and vibrated up my spine, making the leather of the bench beneath me feel alive and pulse with the beat.
Before I could fully savor the taste of the sour, a group of leather-clad admirers approached our table. They were a mix of men and women, their eyes hungry as they took in my bound form. They offered compliments to Jason on my attire, and though I couldn't see his face, his posture remained stoic and unbothered. His grip on my thigh tightened, a silent warning to stay put as they tried to engage us in conversation.
"Your property looks absolutely exquisite," a woman with a flogger coiled around her wrist purred, her eyes raking over my exposed flesh.
Jason's grip on my thigh tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you," he said, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "But she's not here for your entertainment."
The woman's eyes narrowed, but she took the hint and backed away, the group of leather-clad enthusiasts dissipating like a cloud of smoke. I let out a shaky breath, the tension in the air heavy. For a moment, it felt as if the very walls of the club were closing in around us, the pressure of their hungry gazes weighing heavily on my shoulders. But Jason's hand remained steady, a reassurance that I was his and his alone tonight.
Without a word, he stood and tugged the leash, his eyes never leaving mine as he led me out onto the dance floor. The music was a living entity, a pulsing beast that seemed to thrum in sync with my racing heart. The strobe lights painted the room in a frenetic pattern of light and shadow, the dancers moving in time with the erratic rhythm. The floor was sticky with sweat and spilled drinks, but all I could feel was the cold leather of my bindings and the heat of his hand guiding me through the throng.
As we danced, I felt the weight of his gaze on me, a silent command that sent my body into a frenzy of movement. The tight corset pushed my breasts up, the leather pressing against the piercings in a delicious agony that made me moan. Each twirl and dip was a silent declaration of his ownership, my body bending to his will. The music washed over us like a wave, the bass vibrating through my very bones, setting my teeth on edge and making my pussy throb with need.
The crowd around us was a sea of leather and latex, a kaleidoscope of desire and depravity that only served to heighten my own. I watched as Jason's eyes darkened with lust, his gaze raking over me like a physical touch. Without a word, he began to grind his hips against me, his cock hard and insistent as it pressed against the leather of his pants. His movements grew more erratic, more desperate, and I could feel the heat of him through the layers of fabric that separated us.
Just when I thought he was about to lose control, a gorgeous redhead, flanked by two blondes, stepped up close to us. The three of them were a vision of beauty and temptation, their eyes gleaming with the promise of untold pleasure. The redhead leaned in, her breath warm against Jason’s ear as she whispered, "We have a private room set up for you and your pet, and we're very interested in what you've got to offer."
Jason looked at me, his gaze intense as he considered the offer. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the thrill of the chase and the allure of the unknown playing across his features. His hand tightened around my leash, a silent question hanging in the air. The redhead's voice was like honey, dripping with the promise of unbridled pleasure and the thrill of the unexpected. The blondes on either side of her were stunning, their eyes full of curiosity and desire as they studied me, their own attire leaving little to the imagination.
"Well slave, what do you say to that?" Jason's voice was a seductive whisper in my ear, his breath hot against the side of my face. "Shall we give these lovely ladies a show?"
Smirking, I said, "Only if they participate," eyeing the redhead hungrily, my voice filled with challenge and lust.
Jason's eyes widened slightly, surprise and excitement flaring in his gaze as he took in the situation. He had never allowed anyone else to touch me during a scene, not even when we were at the club. The idea of sharing me with these strangers was both thrilling and terrifying.
"We'll all go together," Jason said, his voice a dark promise as he took in the redhead and her blonde companions. His eyes gleamed with the thrill of the unknown, the corners of his lips curling into a predatory smile. "But the terms are that you all participate."
The redhead's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she nodded eagerly. "Oh, we're more than happy to play," she purred, her fingernails tracing the leather of the leash attached to my collar. The two blondes shared a knowing smile, their eyes raking over my bound body with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine.
The next thing I knew, we were being led through a maze of velvet-covered walls and dimly lit corridors to the VIP section of the club. The anticipation was like a living thing in my stomach, coiling and tightening with every step I took. The music faded slightly, replaced by the distant echoes of moans and the slap of leather against flesh. The air was thick with the scent of sex and the promise of something dark and deliciously depraved.
Finally, we arrived at a heavy wooden door, the kind that seemed to hold secrets within its very grains. It opened with a low creak, revealing a room that was the very definition of opulent debauchery. The walls were lined with plush red velvet, the floor covered in a thick, black shag carpet that swallowed the sound of our footsteps. In the center of the room stood a large four-poster bed, its posts adorned with shackles and chains that hung like the arms of a metal octopus, ready to embrace and restrain its prey. There were a variety of toys scattered across the nightstands, each more intimidating than the last.
Jason guided me to the center of the room, his hand firm on the small of my back. The two blondes trailed behind us, their eyes sparkling with excitement and lust. The redhead locked the door with a final click that echoed through the space, the sound a reminder that once the door closed, there was no going back. We stood in a tense silence, the air thick with anticipation.
The redhead broke the silence, sauntering over to the pegboard on the left wall. Her eyes scanned the array of whips, paddles, and gags with a connoisseur's gaze, her fingers lingering on a large red 2 inch ball-gag. The blondes each walked over to a wall and grabbed a number of leather straps from a pair of pegboards.
Jason smiled wide as the three of them started to circle around us like sharks eyeing their prey. He took a step back, and I felt the leash go slack. "Let's see what you've got," he says, his voice low and dark.
However, before anything could happen, a knock sounded on the door, jolting the air with a sudden tension. The sound of the door being unlocked and then pushed open was like a cold slap across the room's sultry ambiance. A bouncer, his face a stoic mask, stepped into the room, his eyes scanning over the five of us with a professional disinterest.
"Excuse me this is a private room," Jason's voice was firm, his hand moving to the base of my neck in a protective gesture.
The bouncer's eyes flicked to him, then back to me. "My apologies, Sir," he said, his voice thick with a hint of amusement. "But are you the owner of the delivery truck that's double parked outside? It's blocking the alley, and that's against fire regulations. We need to get it moved."
Jason's jaw tightened, the tension in the air palpable as he looked between the bouncer and me. The redhead, unfazed by the interruption, stepped forward. "We'll be fine," she said sweetly, her hand sliding down my arm to give my bound wrist a gentle squeeze. "We'll take good care of her, I assure you."
Grudgingly, Jason nodded and gave my ass a gentle squeeze before following the bouncer out the door, his eyes never leaving mine until the very last moment. The redhead watched him leave with a knowing smile, then and only when the door clicked shut turned to her friends.
"Alright ladies, let's make this quick."
"Not too quick I hope, after all I've had one hell of ahhhhhh-!" My flirty quip was cut off as the redhead forcefully shoved the gag into my mouth, stretching my jaws open wide before buckling it tightly behind my head. The ball was a monstrous size, and the pressure on my tongue and teeth was immense, silencing me into a muffled whine. I could feel the saliva pool around it, and I knew that speaking would be near impossible from here on out. The blondes, not missing a beat, moved in on either side of me, their deft hands each wrapping a leather strap around my torso.
One blonde wrapped a leather strap around my body above my breasts, while the other knelt to wrap another below them, effectively immobilizing my arms and pressing my chest up and out, displaying my cleavage to the fullest. Their movements were swift and sure, a silent dance of domination that sent a thrill of fear and excitement through me. The corset was already pushing my breasts to the limits of their comfort, but the added pressure made me gasp in a deep breath through my nose and made my eyes water slightly.
Once finished they moved down to my knees, the blondes wrapping leather straps around my legs, pulling them tight until my knees were bound together, making it impossible for me to spread my legs or even move them really. The redhead bent down and padlocked my ankle cuffs together. I had been completely immobilized in a matter of seconds, my body now a canvas for their sadistic artistry.
Still for a moment I thought this was a part of the game, a surprise twist in the night's dark dance. But as the redhead stepped away and rolled out a wheelchair from the corner that had been hidden under a black sheet. Before I knew what was happening I was being strapped in, my bound body unable to resist as the chair was adjusted to fit my bound form.
"Too easy, let's get her out to the truck." The redhead said with a grin, as the blondes each grabbed one of the chair's handles and started to push me towards the door. Panic set in, my eyes wide and desperate as I looked around the room for any sign of Jason. The reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I was being kidnapped.
The wheelchair bumped over the threshold and into a dimly lit maintenance hallway, the sound of the wheels echoing off the concrete walls. The smell of industrial cleaning supplies and the hum of the fluorescent lights above mixed with the fear and adrenaline pumping through my veins. We took a sharp left, and the redhead produced a set of keys, jingling them in front of my face before inserting one into a panel next to a pair of metal caged elevator doors. With a clank and a groan, the doors slid open, revealing a cage-like elevator that looked like it hadn't been used in years. The blondes pushed me inside, and the redhead followed closely behind.
"Make sure the security footage for tonight goes missing," the redhead said, ushering the two blondes out of the elevator and into the dimly lit service corridor. The blondes nodded, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they headed back the way we'd come, leaving me alone with the woman who had so recently whispered sweet nothings of depravity into my ear.
"Well sugar, it's time to go for a little ride," the redhead purred as she stepped closer, her hand caressing the side of the elevator cage with a sadistic glint in her eye. With a push of a button, the elevator jolted to life, the metal cage rattling as it began to slowly ascend. I could do nothing but stare at her, the panic rising in my chest as the world outside grew smaller and smaller. The elevator's movement was jerky, as if it hadn't been used in a while, and the flickering lights above only added to the sense of unease.
The clanking and groaning of the elevator's mechanical workings grew louder as we approached the top, and finally, with a grind that sent a shiver down my spine, it came to a stop. The doors slid open, revealing a dark garage. With a giggle the redhead wheeled me out into the cold, concrete space, the echoes of our movements bouncing off the walls and mixing with the distant sound of rain outside.
In the dim light, I could make out the shadowy form of a handicap van, its side door open and waiting like the mouth of a metal beast ready to swallow me whole. The van was nondescript, a perfect vehicle for blending in on the streets, but in this moment, it was as terrifying as a monster from my darkest nightmares.
"Well Miss Monroe, I don't know who you pissed off to end up here, but you're going to be quite the little prize for someone." The redhead said as she wheeled me closer to the van, "but hey, look on the bright side, now you can live out all those dark little fantasies for real all the time." Her laugh was cruel and cold as ice, sending a shiver down my spine.
I couldn't believe this was happening, it had to be a nightmare, a twisted continuation of the last few days. This couldn't be my reality, not here, not now. But as the wheels of my chair rolled up the ramp into the back of the van, the cold, hard leather biting into my skin, I knew this was all too real. The redhead's words echoed in my head, taunting me with the possibility that this was all part of some twisted plan.
There could only be one explanation, David Wolfe… he must have found out about Gerald's plans to try and get me to turn on him. The thought of him orchestrating this whole thing, turning my worst fears and darkest desires into a twisted reality, made me feel sick. God I had been such a fool not to see this coming.
I felt my eyes moisten with fear and despair as the inside of the van came into view. There were no seats, no comforts to be found in this metal tomb on wheels. The interior was cold and bare, stripped down to its essentials. The redhead expertly wheeled me over to a section of the van that had been fortified with heavy-duty bolts and chains. Large heavily tinted windows looked out onto the dark and dank insides of the garage.
With practiced ease, the redhead secured my chair to the wall, the bolts locking into place with a final, resonating click. With the chair now immovable, she next added yet another belt that she wrapped around my thighs and chair to ensure I would be unable to get up. The leather bit into my skin, but the panic coursing through my veins was a far greater torment. I struggled against the restraints, my garbled cries of protest muffled the thick rubber ball gag filling my mouth.
"Now, now we have a long drive ahead of us," the redhead said with a wink as she stepped back to admire her work. "Struggling will only make it worse for you."
With that final statement my captor stood up and made her way up to the driver's seat, leaving me to contemplate the cold metal floor and the walls closing in around me. The engine of the van rumbled to life, a low purr that seemed to echo my own fearful heartbeat. The garage door rumbled open, revealing the rain-soaked alley outside, and the van rolled out into the night.
My heart leapt as I saw the flash of red and blue lights, hope burning through the despair like a beacon of salvation. The van's tires crunched over the wet pavement, and as we approached the alley's exit, I could make out the silhouettes of several police officers. But instead of rushing to my aid, they were busy with something else entirely.
As the van rolled past Jason's truck, the reality of the situation slapped me across the face. Jason was bent over the hood, his wrists secured with handcuffs that glinted in the flashing lights. Two officers stood over him, their expressions stern as they read him his rights. Panic surged through me, the pressure of the ball gag increasing as I realized that my one hope of rescue had been snuffed out. How could this be? Had he been set up?
The back of his delivery truck was wide open and a pair of officers were searching through it, their expressions grim. The redhead had timed this perfectly, it seemed. The lights of the police car washed over us, and I watched in horror as Jason was pushed into the backseat of the cruiser. The van rolled by, and I knew that my hope of rescue had been crushed as surely as the crunch of the wheels over the gravel.
"Sorry to say but there won't be any rescue tonight," the redhead called back, a hint of satisfaction in her voice as we pulled out onto the street. The rain pattered against the windows of the van, the sound a cruel symphony playing to my horror. The city lights outside blurred into a sea of red and yellow as the rain danced in the headlights. I watched in despair as the club grew smaller in the distance, the lights fading into the dark horizon like the dwindling embers of a dying fire.