I stood by the doorway and watched him, several feet outside the well of light surrounding the cot. Effectively invisible.
I had given him the neutralizing agent ninety minutes ago. He had spent the past hour and a half since the paralysis wore off fighting against the restraints, screaming insults at me, and exhausting himself. I waited until I was sure he was too far-gone to launch anything near an attack before I slid quietly into the room.
He was so beautiful. Feral. A wild animal, caught in a trap, waiting for the hunter to return and finish off the job. Skin coated in sweat, muscles trembling from exertion, green eyes wide and angry. Rage rolling off him in waves.
He wanted to fight. He wanted to kill.
He wasn't going to get to do either of those things. His options were limited, and he knew it.
He wasn't running this show.
I was.
And it was showtime.
One deep breath. Anticipating. Smiling. He had told me more than once that when I smile, his blood runs cold. Good. Let him be afraid.
He and I both know that I would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt him. I had gone way out of my way to avoid causing him pain.
I wasn't after his blood, or his tears. I wanted something much sweeter.
Two steps, and I was within the circle of light engulfing the cot he was laying on.
It had taken me weeks to design this set-up. Steel X bolted to steel square, attached to a frame, bolted to the floor. Fake sheepskin covered foam rubber pad, an inch or two wider than his shoulders, extending from head to thighs. Restraints bolted into metal. There was no way in hell, even as angry as he was right then, that he could get loose. He wasn't going anywhere until I was done with him. That would be a while.
He heard me approach, and that set off another round of fighting. I was standing above his right shoulder, making it nearly impossible for him to see me. He tried it anyways, nearly dislocating his neck in the process. Why did he have to fight so hard to see who it was? He knew it was me. He hasn't seen another human being besides me in over eight weeks.
He was too exhausted to fight for more than a minute or two. After he stilled, gulping air, I slid around to his right side, kneeling down until I was at his eye level, not touching. I knew better than to get within biting range when he was like this. The last time.well, let's say the teeth marks are souvenirs I'll carry for quite some time.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted to lick the sweat that dripped off his skin onto the fake animal fur he was laying on. I wanted to hear him whimper and cry out in Russian, before he lost the ability to speak altogether.
Patience was never a virtue I possessed, but I was learning.
My beautiful green-eyed panther was teaching me.
The smile was back, and I know I had that gleam in my eye. He was lying still, very still, watching me, trying to figure out what I was going to do.
We stayed that way for a long moment, barely eighteen inches apart, eyes locked under the circle of spotlights. Waiting.
"Why did you try to run away, Alex?"
Quiet voice, neutral tone. Not hurt, not upset. Just seeking information.
Wide, guileless smile. A smile that wouldn't melt butter. "I didn't try to run away. Why would I do that?" He gestured around him ineffectually with one hand, bound to the steel bar at the wrist and elbow. "Run away, and give up all this?"
I fought down the smirk, but I knew he had seen it. He had the unique ability to make me laugh, even when I was furious at him. Especially when I was furious at him.
Once again, with feeling.
"Why did you try to run away, Alex?"
"Oh, I don't know." Tone and inflection I had heard so many times, his usual combination of threat, rage and sarcasm. "Could have something to do with the fact that you kidnapped me and are holding me here against my will."
I let the chuckle bubble up to the surface. We had already had this conversation so many times. It was no longer a discussion, more of a comedy routine. Attack, parry, defend, thrust. At least he dropped `rape' from his litany of offenses. He really, really didn't like me proving to him that you can't rape the willing.
I reached one hand out, slowly, intending to stroke the sweat-soaked hair off his forehead. I always moved slowly around him when he was restrained. If he could see me, and I moved quickly, he got frantic. Hysterical.
>From the scars on his back, with good reason. I never asked, and he never offered. I simply made it a practice to move slowly and let him see that my hands were empty. No weapons. Nothing to inflict pain.
I never took the toys out until he was carefully blindfolded. Being unable to see seemed to calm him down, help him center. We had almost gotten to the point of well behaved, docile. Last night was a first in so many ways. Last night.
Last night, I was so proud of him.
Last night, on the porch, there were no restraints, no bondage. Just cuddling in the hammock, watching the sunset behind the mountains, holding hands, sweet, shy kisses, my cock up his ass, barely moving. Just spooning in my arms, long, slow, languid fucking. No rage, fire banked, enjoying the sensation of holding him, being inside him, feeling his breathing change, feeling him ignite.
This morning, his roundhouse punch connected with my jaw, and he was out of there.
It took me three hours to track him down in the jeep. I knew he couldn't get too far. He wasn't dressed for hiking through the wilderness, wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxer shorts and no shoes. Even if he had managed to make it the almost ten miles off my property, it wouldn't have done him any good. He and I are the only people within fifty miles who speak English.
His eyes focused on my hand coming closer to his face, and he flinched, whole body tensing up.
"Don't. Touch. Me." Barely a snarl.
"Why not?"
He cocked his head, startled. "Why not what?"
"Why shouldn't I touch you?"
He blinked, blinked again. Pause while he tried on different responses inside his head. Words were never his strong suit. "Because I don't want you to."
"That's it? Just because you don't want me to, I shouldn't touch you?"
"That's it. Just because I don't want you to."
Another chuckle hit the surface. If my smiles made his blood run cold, my laughter absolutely terrified him. "Let me introduce you to a fundamental truth, beautiful." I leaned closer, until only a few inches separated us. "Sometimes, your desires are not the paramount factor in my decision-making process."
My hand cupped his jaw, slid up and across his cheek, into his black, silky hair. He flinched again, trying to pull away. Something flashed across his eyes and disappeared.
Fear.
One deep breath, then another, hand stilled in his hair. Where the fuck was this coming from?
Did he think I was out for revenge for this morning? Revenge really isn't my style. Yes, I was mad—for about ten seconds. Then I went out and did what I had to do to retrieve my errant panther. That's my style. Get pissed and get over it.
"Alex, why are you afraid of me?" I let the puzzlement show in my face. "Have I ever done anything to hurt you?"
He swallowed hard. Nodded. "The ball gag."
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. He was absolutely right. I had hurt him. Not intentionally, but the pain is the same, intent or no.
It was his third day here, in this house, with me. I have a very long temper, but it has its limits. I had hit my limit of listening to him scream insults and threats.
So, I gagged him.
I used the same ball gag that had been used on me, all those years ago. I didn't think about the fact that it had taken me nearly nine months to work up to a gag that large.
After I put the gag in his mouth, he stopped screaming insults.
He also stopped breathing, a minute later.
That scared the shit out of both of us. I nearly dislocated his jaw getting the gag out. Thank the gods it only took a few minutes of mouth to mouth to start him breathing on his own.
I just held him for the rest of that long night, silently beating myself up for my stupidity and arrogance. I finally found a beautiful plaything of my own, and I nearly killed him after only three days. Even if he survived, he would never trust me. He would be afraid of me, which was the exact opposite of what I was seeking.
I opened my eyes, and looked over at my beautiful, bound panther. I had apologized to him many, many times since that night.
"Alex, I'm very sorry that happened. But I think you recognize that it was an accident." Wary green eyes drilling into mine."Have I ever gagged you, since that night?"
He glanced away, mesmerized by something in the darkness. After a long moment, he shook his head.
"Have I ever done anything to intentionally hurt you?"
Another long pause. Another shake of the head.
"Then why did you try to run away?" A crucial neuron fired in the back of my brain. His bizarre behavior started to click. "Did last night scare you that badly?"
He got very stiff, muscles rigid. "Nothing happened last night."
I knew his body very well.
I fell asleep with his body in my arms every night.
I woke up next to that body every morning.
He woke up every morning, shackled to my bed, feeling my cock slide in and out of his ass, still loose and lubed from the enthusiastic fucking the night before.
This was my favorite part of the day, early in the morning, feeling him come alive under me. There was nothing aggressive, nothing intense, so unlike the sex that would inevitably come later in the day. This was the slowest, laziest, gentlest fuck possible. Sometimes I would let my eyes close, let myself drift off for a few minutes. Other times his body would react to me long before his brain awoke, arching into my touch, squirming, trying to get more stimulation, more of me inside.
I knew his body well. I knew all his buttons, mental and physical. I had spent the past two months in an exhaustive survey of his buttons, his pleasure points. I could play his beautiful body like a Stradivarius.
I could also tell when he was lying.
Like right now.
"Why did last night frighten you so much, beautiful? Was it because you weren't fighting me? Was it because, for the first time, you gave up trying to defend your nonexistent honor and simply enjoyed my touch?"
No response. He was ignoring me, lying stiff as the metal crossbeams holding him in place.
Gently, softly. "Or was it because last night you discovered that being here, with me, was right where you wanted to be?"
Bingo.
He turned, green eyes flashing murder and bloodshed. "I do NOT want to be here with you! I want my old life back!"
More laughter. He was so lovely when he was obstinate and unreasonable. My knees were threatening to sue for divorce if I knelt on the concrete floor for another moment, so I stood up, leaning over his prone form.
"Do I need to refresh your memory, beautiful? Before I came along, you were renting out your gun hand to anyone with a wad of green. Half the time, you didn't have enough money to eat, and you were shooting heroin." I tapped the inside of his left elbow with my fingers. The track marks were still there, though fading.
" What was it about that life that you are so desperate to get back to?"
"It was mine! I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. I wasn't spending every day tied to a bed, getting fucked by a psychopath."
Now it was my turn to get very still, very stiff. I let the ice show in my eyes, seep into my voice. He kept trying to make me angry, even though he really, really did not want to see me angry. Every once in a while, he hit a nerve.
"So answer me one question about this old life you miss so much—was it just your skills as an assassin that were for sale to the highest bidder? Or was it also your skills in bed?"
"I am not a whore!" Trying for offended dignity, hard to do when he was tied naked to metal bars.
I clucked my tongue and let my eyes wander across his delicious exposed flesh. "Shame, really. There are men out there who would pay good money for a taste of you, wiggling and crying out like a bitch in heat." I slid my hand into my pocket and extracted something,a motion tracked by wary green eyes. "Like you'll be doing under me, in the next few hours."
I let him see what I removed from my pocket—a strip of black velvet, attached with Velcro and elastic. A blindfold.
His blindfold.
Something inside that tight-coiled spring at the center of Alex always seemed to loosen when he saw the blindfold. He relaxed, just a millimeter. It was as if he knew that as long as he couldn't see, I wouldn't do anything to hurt him. Blindfolded, the only things that would touch his skin were my skin, and a handful of select toys. He also knew that in a few short minutes, the fear and confusion and uncertainty would disintegrate under the lust and the sheer animal need.
I slid the blindfold on, securing it tightly around his head. It wasn't going anywhere, no matter how hard he thrashed. The first few weeks, getting the blindfold on was a daily challenge. He would fight and buck, until I practically had to sit on him to get the damn thing attached. Now, he just calmly lies still while I fasten the Velcro and adjust the straps.
I thought about the earplugs, and decided against them. I didn't use them nearly as much as I used to. At the beginning, I wanted him in a sensory deprivation haze, missing sight and sound, restricted to touch. Now, I prefer to ask him questions while I tease him into frenzy, forcing his fuck-dumb brain to come up with a coherent answer while my tongue makes slow circles around the head of his cock and I slide the dildo in and out of his tight, lubed ass.
Next came the cock ring. Today, a narrow length of leather buckled to the base of his cock. I've been making him wear one almost 24-7 since he showed up at my doorstep. The little strip of metal, or leather, or plastic allowed me to play with him for hours, denying him any release while I tortured him unmercifully, getting myself off several times in the process.
As I said, I knew his body well. I knew where to touch, I knew what toys to use, and I knew just what to say to reduce him to helpless, incoherent writhing. I knew how to make him scream, and I knew how to make him lose the ability to speak altogether.
The ritual was always the same. Preparations, then a kiss. The only kiss he would get until we were done. I had a theory that, at certain points, I could make him come just by kissing him. One of these days, I'll have to test this theory.
Not today.
Today, I just want to make him forget where he ends and where I begin.
Today was going to be more intense than usual. I had never brought him down to this room before, though I had set it up over a month earlier. I was saving it for a time when I really wanted to work him over properly, or when he really needed to be taken down a peg or two. Today, both seemed to apply.
Quickly, I attached the extra length of chain from the right side of the top crosspiece to the tightly buckled restraint right above his right knee. Same with the other side. He was arching his head, listening, trying to see around the blindfold. This was new. Unusual. Playing with the restraints once I have them attached isn't in my usual repertoire. Most of the time I'm too busy playing with other things.
Today was different.
"You want to fight, don't you, beautiful? You want me to drag it out of you, kicking and screaming the entire way."
My fingers were busy dis-attaching the knee and ankle restraints from the metal crosspieces. Another quick clip, and a short length of chain extended from the ankle restraints to the bottom of the square. His legs were now no longer fastened to the X, but still secured with chains and restraints. At least for a moment.
Quickly, quickly. Before he realizes how much freedom he has, and lashes out. In this position, he could still kick, and kick hard.
I moved up to the top of the square, one hand on each chain extending from the top crosspiece to his knee restraints. I wrapped my hands in the slack chain, and gave one hard, full body pull, sliding the chains into the quick-catch toggles bolted to the metal next to the chains.
Oh, perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Knees bent up to his chest and spread apart almost as far as they would go. Ankle chain held taut, keeping his lower legs immobile. Tight, sweet ass totally exposed, cock rigid against his belly, balls swollen and full.
"Fight all you want, beautiful. Those are mountain climbing toggles attached to the chains. The more you fight, the more tension on the toggle, the shorter the chain gets, the more spread open you get. You go ahead—knock yourself out."
He didn't like this, and he made his displeasure obvious. With a ferocious snarl, he tried to launch himself against the restraints. It didn't last long, but for a moment I was debating the tensile strength of steel versus the muscle strength of a pissed-off Alex.
When the ferocity subsided, he was still lying there, panting hard, muscles trembling, trying desperately to control his breathing. That would not do. I didn't want him to be able to control anything at all.
Drawing my fingernails up the inside of his thighs made him hiss and arch, distracting him while I pulled the stool over and sat down inside the box, nearly touching the bottom of the foam rubber pad, between his legs. All his most private parts, open and defenseless to my touch. There was no place he could go, no way for him to run.
Mine. All mine. To play with as I like.
I started right above his anklebone, holding his leg firmly with one hand while kissing and nibbling on the lightly furred skin over corded muscles. Normally, I would have started at the bottom of his feet, tickling and sucking on his toes, but they were pretty badly torn up after his unauthorized hike. Sucking on bandages is not my idea of erotic.
When I got to his knee and slid my tongue into the crevice behind, trying to get to that ultra sensitive skin, he squirmed and made some unmistakable complaining sounds. Who would have figured that a cold-blooded killer would be this ticklish?
As my mouth and tongue got closer to the juncture of his thighs, his breathing got more rapid and labored. Other than that, and the objection to my tickling the inside of his knee, he hadn't moved or made a sound.
So he thinks he's going to stone-face his way through this, does he? If he believes he's going to be allowed to retreat inside his own head and pretend I'm not here, he's got another thing coming.
Apparently, I needed to turn up the volume.
To hell with the long, slow tease. It's time for the big guns.
Both hands placed on the inside of his thighs, gripping tightly. Not so much for restraint purposes—there was no way short of welding equipment that he was going to be able to move his legs enough to pose a threat—but just to send a message. I have you right where I want you, Beautiful.
Leaning over the foam pad, letting him feel my breathing along his exposed cock and balls, then lower. One long, slow lick to the perineum. Then I started lazily circling his tight, puckered opening with my tongue, flicking across the sensitive entrance before sliding just the tip inside.
His whole body stiffened. I watched his cock pulsing, leaking pre-cum onto his belly. He was trying so hard to lie still and not react, and it was failing miserably. I slid just a centimeter more of my tongue inside his ass, then slid it out. A little more, then out. I let my fingertips slowly play across the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, brushing close to his balls, but not close enough to touch. That would come later. Much later, when I was ready to hear him scream.
A little more, then out, working my tongue like the cock that would certainly be coming later. A short, thick, wet cock with a tip that keeps wiggling back and forth inside him.
I was waiting for a sign. A reaction. It took me a few minutes, but I finally got it. Invisibly, microscopically, he started thrusting his hips into my tongue, trying to get it just a little bit deeper, keep it inside him just a little bit longer.
That was my cue. I pulled out suddenly, blowing on his saliva-soaked ass, watching it spasm under the cold air.
Looking up at his face was all the revelation I needed.
His eyes were clenched tightly closed under the blindfold. He had bitten his lower lip so hard I could see red on his teeth. There was sweat dripping off his face, soaking into his black hair. He was practically vibrating with the effort involved in not moving, not reacting.
"You go ahead and fight me as hard as you need to, beautiful. It just makes your eventual surrender all the sweeter. And that's the only thing I'll settle for this afternoon—your surrender."
I ran one finger up the underside of his engorged, weeping cock, feeling it pulse and throb under my gentle ministrations, hearing the breath catch in his throat. Oh, yeah. Definitely time to get mean.
Reaching under the table, I pulled out a small, black bag. My bag of tricks. My bag of devices to drive Alex mad. After considering for half a moment, I decided on one of my favorites. A classic, really. The first toy I ever used on my beautiful, disobedient panther.
It was pink, shiny, hard plastic, about six inches long, barely wider than the AA batteries inside, with a small black switch at the thickened base. A vibrator. Designed for girls, it worked wonderfully for making Alex beg, and cry out, and scream.
"While you were out on your little unauthorized nature walk, the package I ordered arrived in the mail. I bought you some presents at a little catalog I found online. It's amazing what you can buy on the Internet, nowadays." I rested the slim pink vibrator against the crack of his ass while I fished the lubricant out of the bag. He was intimately familiar with it, its curves, they way it felt.
He flinched. I smiled.
"You hate this one the most, don't you?" I didn't wait for a response. I knew it wouldn't be forthcoming. I opened the tiny tube of Glide, and squirted it onto my fingers before applying it to the vibrator. "It's a sweet, intimate torture—feeling it buzz and vibrate inside you, touching that spot that makes you lose control, over and over again. You can't hide from the sensation,and you can't run away." I wiped the remains of the lubricantinto the fake sheepskin, and held the tip of the narrow wand next to his saliva soaked, tightly puckered opening. "You can't even come."
With one smooth push, I slid the entire length of it inside him, until just the base was still outside. He squirmed and hissed, then held very still, waiting. He knew what was going to happen next. The only question in his mind was when.
"One of the toys that I bought you was a very special dildo. I think you'll really like this one. It's made of thin plastic, about seven or eight inches long, with an opening at the base. Right now,it's deflated. Once I fill it with blood temperature water, and put the plug in the base, it's hard, and hot, and it responds when those talented muscles of yours contract around it." Blowing gently on his balls, watching them respond to the air movement and my words."I bet it would almost feel like a real cock. I can't wait to testit on you, see if it makes you scream as much as my cock does."
He was biting his lip again, trying to suppress the quiet mewling noises he makes when he gets really turned on. I had never tried to tease him with my words before, but it was working like a charm. I'll have to add this to my repertoire.
I flipped the switch at the base of the vibrator with my thumb, then stood back to watch the show.
Back arched, with only his shoulders and ass in contact with the sheepskin. Legs spread as far as they would go. Fighting against the restraints, trying desperately to thrust his hips, squirming into the sensation. Hands wrapped around the metal support bars, white-knuckled grip. Letting loose a barrage of profanity, broken English and Russian.
I counted silently to thirty, enjoying the sight of my beautiful Alex writhing and crying out as I slid the vibrator in and out of his gel-slick ass. With an evil grin completely wasted on my blindfolded companion, I flipped the switch back to the off position.
A tortured whimper was his first response. It took him a moment to regain the ability to speak.
"No...please...no." Gasping around the words.
I was laughing again, that sound that made his blood run cold. Right now, it wasn't a concern. He was so hot, so aroused that nothing short of nuclear winter could have cooled him down.
"Shall I tell you about the other present I bought you, beautiful?"
He was biting his lip again. That wouldn't do. He was going to need stitches to repair the damage he was doing to his luscious mouth. A distraction was definitely in order.
Another flick of the switch, one quick thrust, just long enough to hear another of his delicious shrieks, halfway between pleasure and pain. Then off.
"Are you ready to hear about your present, Alex?" No point in waiting for a response when he was incapable of speech. His brain was completely disengaged by this point. Just the way I like him.
"I bought you some very special lube, beautiful. Made by the same company that makes the Wet we usually use. It's called Spice. It's standard lube with a small amount of capsaicin in it."
The words were penetrating his fuck-dumb brain, I could tell. His breathing changed.
"Don't worry, Alex. The percentage of capsaicin isn't high enough to burn, or even hurt. I tried it already. It just...tingles." I reached up and slowly wrapped my hand around his cock, hard as teak and plastered to his quivering stomach. Not moving my hand, at least not yet.
"Can you imagine how it would feel, having this lube smeared across your nipples? Can you feel it tingling, stinging?"
One slow slide of my hand along the length of his cock, sticky with pre-cum. Another one of those mewling cries that pools at the base of my spine and makes me grit my teeth to resist the almost overwhelming impulse to fuck him blind.
"I'd have to put some more right here." I ran my thumb across the head of his cock. "Not along the shaft. Not on your balls. Just right across the tip. And that's the only time I'd touch you there." I leaned over and ran my tongue in a slow, lazy circle around the head, savoring his taste, his desperate attempts to thrust deeper into my mouth. "No place else. Just the lube, sending all those hypersensitive nerve endings into a frenzy. Oh, you'd be squirming so hard, trying desperately to get more contact, writhing under me like the bitch in heat you are." Another slow lick, and a deep, sucking kiss, with just a little bit of teeth.
Flick of the switch, as I took his entire length into my mouth, teasing the tip of my tongue across that excruciatingly sensitive spot on the underside, just below the head. I slid the vibrator out and in, aiming for his other spot, his prostate. His choked-off scream let me know my aim was as good as ever. Flick off, and I let his cock slide out of my mouth with a wet sucking sound.
"Then I'd get your other toy, the new dildo, and coat it liberally in Spice. I'd tease you with it for a long time. First, I'd just pop the head in and out, watching your tight sphincter muscles clutch at the plastic cock. In and out, until you begged me to fuck you, until you begged me to slide the whole thing inside you. You know I can't resist when you beg me to bury my cock inside your tight, slick ass, even if it isn't really my cock." A quick slide of my tongue across his balls, and another agonized squeal. On a good night, I could reduce him to screaming just by playing with his balls. No penetration, nothing on his cock, just teasing, stroking and sucking on his testicles. I needed to do that again. It had been far too many days.
"Then I'd fuck you with it, long, slow strokes. You could feel the tingling building with every thrust of that warm, life-like plastic cock. It would be a triple-pronged attack, beautiful -nipples,head of your cock, and deep inside your ass."
Another nip to his shaft, as I hit the switch again. I ran my teeth along his rigid length, feeling the vibrations deep within him, listening to him cry out in tortured pleasure. A few more seconds, then off.
"Can you feel it, Alex? Can you feel the stinging, the tingling on your nipples, your cock? It would hurt so good, wouldn't it? Pain and pleasure tied into one mind-blowing double helix. You wouldn't be able to get away, or get any closer."
He was crying out now, without benefit of my touch. Just my words.
"How long would you be able to last? Would you beg me to fuck you harder, deeper? Or would you just scream until your throat was raw?"
This was working well. Way too well. I was almost as hard and aroused as my desperate panther, and I was still fully dressed. At this rate, I wouldn't last ten seconds, once I was imbedded in his slick heat. This would not do.
A break was definitely called for. A break to go upstairs and find his new toys.
Beautifull, A Love Story
by Ganymede
"Yes, I finally found the reason,
I don't need an excuse.
I've got this time on my hands.
You are the one to abuse."
