She stood in the hallway outside the closed hotel door. Smiled sweetly at the older couple that passed by her as she slowly slid the key card through the lock. She looked like she belonged there, which she knew was half the battle in these jobs. At the faint click, she opened the door just enough to gain entry, then shut the door. For added security, she threw the deadbolt. Piece of cake! She was in. And if her mark was as wealthy as he’d looked when she’d lifted his keycard in the lobby, well, she’d do very well tonight.
She’d seen him from across the room. She sat there in one of those soft, comfy chairs, watching the crowd without looking it. Dressed in a lovely red sheath dress, she gathered attention. With her looks why not flaunt it. Then, when attention shifted from face to tits, she would be unrecognizable. A woman in a red dress. Oh, they could describe her cleavage, but her face? Nada. She grinned, remembering. He’d done the same thing. Once she had his attention, and knew he would be her goal for this evening, she carefully folded the paper, looked at her watch, and made a moue of annoyance cross her raspberry lips. She looked to the elevators, the towards the entry to the casino. She rose and crossed close to him. Peered into the casino, as if looking for someone.
“For pity’s sake, where is he?” she muttered under her breath, and turned sharply, crashing into the man. With deft hands, she lifted his door card, then spoke sharply to him,
“Hey, stop that!” and slapped at his arm which had come up to catch her elbow.
“Didn’t want you to fall, miss,” he replied, and she couldn’t quite quell the disturbing sensation that ran through her arm at his firm touch, nor the penetrating gaze he bent on her. Those eyes were very…knowing. She felt as if he was looking inside of her, unlocking doors that she kept firmly bolted shut. She shook herself free of his grasp, and hurried to the elevators.
He watched the little minx enter the elevator. He’d felt her, barely, lifting his key. He turned and went to the entry for the stairs. His room was on the third floor, but he noted that the elevator had stopped on two. Thankfully. Two at a time, he quickly gained access to the 3rd floor, and took the spare key card out of his wallet. He entered the room, and speedily drew the curtains shut, blocking any light. He took items from his special valise and laid them on the pillows of the king size bed. He just had time to secure the wrist ties to the top of the bed when he heard her outside the door. Quickly, he pulled the desk chair just around the corner from the entry hall and waited for her to enter. He grinned when he heard her throw the deadbolt.
She slipped down the hallway towards the bedroom. These kind of guys always kept their valuables in their briefcases…by the bed. As she passed the small alcove where he lay in wait, she paused a moment to let her eyes adjust to the very dim room. She debated putting on a light. When these kind of guys came for a gamble, they usually stayed 3 or 4 hours. Likely he was involved in one of those high stakes poker games and she would be out of here in just a few…
An arm snaked around her throat, pulling her backwards. As she opened her mouth to protest, a ball of some sort pushed deeply between her teeth. Though she fought to keep herself upright, she was thrust forward, an ankle hooking around her legs. She pitched forward onto the bed.
He steered her to fall facedown and despite her struggles, his knee, placed in the center of her back, didn’t allow her to rise. He fastened the ball gag tightly, then grabbed her thrashing hands. Reaching towards the pillow, he snagged the cuffs, and snapped first one, then the other around her thin wrists. She was moaning up a storm now, and bucking, but she was no match for him. He could feel the pulse in her throat as he grabbed her by it, raising her chin up and arching her back.
“I could snap this thieving neck in a heartbeat and be done with you,” his voice was cold and menacing. She stopped thrashing, taut and fearful. He felt the quiver run through her body, her back so tight under his knee that he wondered it didn’t break.
“You have no choices here, understood?” he waited until she slowly, grudgingly nodded once.
“You are going to have to work very hard to please me. Then perhaps we’ll come to some sort of …” he waited, thought a moment. “….arrangement.” She shook her head, muttered incoherently through the gag.
“Now, now, don’t hurt yourself, little girl. I think you will come to like some of tonights fun and games. And remember, you did bring this on yourself. Stealing from poor, unwitting hotel guests. Sitting in the lobby and looking for suitable victims. I’m shocked, frankly. Someone with your looks certainly has other…options…” and his voice trailed off as he tauntingly ran a finger from her midback, down to the swell of her hip, and across her ass.
More mutterings, squealing and head tossing. He gave a sharp slap across her left asscheek.
“Enough!” he spoke harshly. She froze again. He pulled her to the center of the bed, and releasing one hand from behind her, quickly attached the cuff to the restraint. A second cuff went around her freed hand, then it too was attached to the opposite restraint. It happened so quickly, so efficiently that she had no time to try to fight her way free. Now she lay on her back, arms spread eagled and she knew without a shadow of a doubt, what her fate would be.
She glared at him. She lay, mostly immobilized. Her arms were spread but her legs were still free. She debated kicking him, hurting him where it mattered but she figured that anyone who could handcuff someone so efficiently was going to be ready for her to do just that anyway. Plus, even if she killed him, she was still stuck here. Unless a maid…she saw him glance at her and grin. Watched, appalled, as he grabbed the “DO NOT DISTURB” sign from the dresser top, and went to hang it on the knob. Great. She had to get caught by a fucking mind reader. She’d be stuck laying here for days if she did disable him. And if she didn’t…well, she didn’t want to dwell on the possibilities.
He stopped at the end of the bed. Looked at her, taking in the beautiful tits that rose from the top of the crimson dress, all creamy skin and full globed. Her nipples were flat from fear, but that would change. His gazed continued to slide down her body. Paused at the slope of her waist, down her long, long legs, to her feet. Then back up, admiring her long, tousled tresses. Paused at her raspberry tinted mouth, now spread around a black ball gag. Her eyes, a deep and stormy blue, glared at him, despite her dire circumstances. He reached down, stroking one silk-clad calf, exposing the slim leg as he slid his hands beneath her dress. He kept sliding, up, and up, until his legs pressed hard against the end of the bed, his weight resting on his palms, his palms resting upon her thighs. His thumbs rested just at the apex of that warm juncture. Her eyes locked with his, as he began, slowly, teasingly, to twitch those thumbs up, then down. First in synchronicity, then, in alternating rhythm, until he felt her, very gently, rise up to him. Her eyes closed, and a flush played across her face. The faint rasp of his thumbnails against her neatly trimmed bush was barely audible, but the scent of her, oh, that carried very clearly.
He slid his hands back down to her ankles, and then slowly pulled her legs up. Sliding them up and over his shoulders, he leaned forward until his mouth was just above her plump vee. As his warm exhalation blew across her, the long, low moan coming from her intensified to a deep, albeit muffled cry. Her hips rose to try to capture his mouth, but he pulled back, waiting for her to drop back to the bed.
Each time his breath came across her, she rose. Each time he backed away, until finally she squealed in frustration, tossing her head back and forth. Her legs tightened around his neck, but a good hard pinch on her clit stopped that bad habit. Finally she lay, legs open, waiting for him. He could see that just this short bit of playing with her, denying her, controlling her, had caused her lower lips to swell and pinken nicely. He could see and smell her arousal, gleaming wetly like pearls awaiting the diver to find them all.
Now that she was pliant, needy, he took her legs and began pressing them up towards her head. Her eyes half-opened as her knees came closer to her face. Watched as he took a pair of panty hose from his pocket. He quickly slid the first pre-made loop around her right ankle. While she was still compliant, he took her left ankle, slid that through a second loop near the first, and pulled the entire thing up over her head. Behind the headboard was a “D” ring that he’d put in the backside of the headboard on his first visit here, several years ago. There were other modifications he had made to this room, but each in it’s proper time. She began to struggle as he pulled the pantyhose tight through the “D” ring. She didn’t know exactly what he was doing, of course, but he sensed her panic at being folded nearly in half and left exposed and vulnerable. Oh, so wonderfully vulnerable! But it was far too late for struggles, which was why he’d been so very patient in arousing her.
“Pantyhose is an amazing tool for the bondage aficionado.” His words fell with quiet precision in the room as he finished tying her off. They were the first he’d spoken in nearly 30 minutes. He went on.
“They have great give, that wonderful elastic stretch, but not too much. They won’t harm your skin too terribly, you may get a slight abrasion but far less than rope or leather. They are found everywhere, light to move, and easily go through airport security, too!” He gave her leg an experimental tug. It moved a bit, but was still secure in its position.
He turned to his special valise. Withdrew a slim cane. Laid it beside her, making certain she could see it. Reached back into his valise. Took out a vibrator, and a butt plug and a tube of lubricant. These he placed on the nightstand. He caught her eye, the fear in it. Winked at her. She moaned and closed her eyes.
A sharp rap on the back of her thigh had her opening them again, fast.
“Pay attention. Don’t want you to miss a thing. Kind of like previews when you go to the movie theater.” He withdrew a short crop, clothes pins, and nipple clamps. Laid them on the pillow next to her head. He turned to the valise, but stopped. Looking back at her, he smiled. He turned back to the bed and took up the crop. He watched her cringe, her eyes half closing, her pulse beating rapidly in her throat. He carefully balanced the crop between her top lip, thrust up and out by the gag, and the lower edge of her nose. Laughed.
“Keep that there. Don’t even think about shaking it off, or the first slap will be on your pretty face,” he warned his voice hard and at odds with the pleasant smile on his mouth. He watched a tear form and slide slowly down her face, to pool in the cup of her ear.
The last item he took from the valise was a pair of scissors. She wanted to toss her head in protest…NO….NO…but he had left no doubt in her mind about what would happen if she dropped the damned whip.
“Fucking Asshole!” she screamed silently in her mind as she heard the steady snick snick snick. He’d started low, and she could not raise her head to look down her body…then she felt the cold steel against her belly. She shivered involuntarily at that icy touch, and her strange and frightening position. In no time at all she was clad only in skin.
Her ass and pussy were right there. Out and exposed and …she could feel sweat pooling under her, even as she shivered with fear. And the damned fucking bastard had gotten her all hot and bothered and …
“Fuck!” she fumed silently. “I can’t BELIEVE what he did to me. Made me want this…this…” she had no words for the vulnerable feelings, nor for her astonishing response to her situation. Horny. What, was she suddenly 16 again and a victim of her carnal desires? She’d buried those thoughts years ago. She froze….groaned, her eyes slamming shut tightly as she felt his tongue lick her from anus to the top of her cleft.
He tasted her honey. Sweet. Slick. She was so wet.
“Made for this, ” he said quietly, “that’s what you are, little dirty slut. You want this. Want me to take you. Use you. And so I shall, slut, so I shall indeed.”
She moaned, louder this time, as his tongue dove deeper and deeper. The first slap took her by surprise, and made her squeal in shock. The thudding of his hand over and over on her left asscheek and exposed thigh was in direct contrast to his slurping mouth, his lapping tongue. When his teeth scraped at her clit, she wiggled, grunting. There was a small amount of play in the position he’d fastened her, and she used it to rise up towards that busy mouth, even lifting into the thudding hand. When he began sucking hard on her swollen nubbin, she came unglued. Mindful of the crop on her face she could not thrash, but her screaming, blunted cries rocked through her body, and her hips undulated as much as she was able. Her legs, tied overhead as they were, gave her faint purchase to rise and fall with her orgasm. And as fast at that one washed over her, he drove her to a second one.
She shook, and moaned and came. Never felt him pull the crop away from her face until the first slashing blow came down on her ass. The steady, repetitive beat of the stinging crop hurt like nothing she had ever felt before, but even so, she felt herself driven again to the brink of orgasm, when he stopped.
His hands stroked over her glowing, welt covered ass, as he slid his hard and aching cock into her. Her cunt opened for him, drew him in. The wet, the warmth, the scent of her surrounded him. In a heartbeat his legs were against her asscheeks, the warmth on his tight thighs as much a pleasure as the tight hot sheath that held his cock.
He fucked her hard. No gentle ministration this. This was wild, pure animal fucking. He punched in and out of her sucking cunt like a man fighting his way home. Deep, then deeper, his balls slapping at her asscrack. His grunts of effort joined her mewling cries as he grabbed her legs and leveraged himself into her again, and again. With a last cry, his cock lurched and began spilling his seed. As his cum poured from him, he braced his forearms on the back of her thighs. Looked down at her sweaty face, his own sweat dripping slowly on her.
“Round one.” And he pulled away, and walked to the bathroom.
She regained consciousness slowly, aware of a deep chill on her tits, and the inability to move even an inch. She tried rolling over, but the hogtie position didn’t allow for that, and the tight rope around her neck discouraged any enthusiastic movements. She tried screaming, but then memory began returning. He had re-gagged her, after releasing her legs from the headboard of the bed.
Pulling out the ball gag had been such a relief, and she tried to talk to him to explain…but when he turned back to her, she saw the washcloth in his hand, knew his intent. She fought, as much as she was able. Hands still tied to the bed, legs tied together, she tossed her head from side to side, while he, smiling asshole that he was, gathered a fistful of her long locks, and wound them around his fist. Tighter and tighter he pulled, until his fist was tight against her temple, and she could only moan in agony. Slowly he inserted the washcloth into her mouth, and when she, in her panic, tried to bite at his fingers as they packed the cloth deeper into her cheeks, he slapped her hard across her face. No malice, just a strong admonishment. Her cheek burned from the blow, her eyes stung with tears.
Then the tape. Shiny silver duct tape, which he tore easily from the roll in his valise. Smoothing it carefully across her mouth, he stared into her eyes. She was completely unnerved, her heart thumping wildly. What could he do to her that he’d not already done, she wondered.
She jolted when his hands caressed her tits, pulled at her nipples. He’d fucked her already, this was true, and damn him, it had been the best sex she’d ever had in her life. She didn’t understand the allure of her powerless state and how it had enhanced her sexual arousal, but it had been smoking hot sex.
Now his hands were cruel, twisting her nipples and pulling them far from her chest. She moaned behind the gag, then began tossing her head and muttering “no-no-no-” behind her gag when she saw him pick up the chain with the clamps on each end. At the first bite of the clamp, she arched up off the bed, squealing.
“Oh suck it up, sugarplum” he said to her, and gave her tit a hard smack. He carefully attached the other end of the chain, ignoring her tears, and the faintest of cries from behind the new gag. He slapped her other tit.
“To balance them” he said with a chuckle. He traced the red marks his hands had left with a fingertip, drawing a shudder from her. He looked at her, tied, gagged, clamped, and beautiful in her fear. The tracing finger went from one breast to the other, sliding down one slope across the valley and up the other.
“These tits really are magnificent, “he mused aloud. He chuckled at her mewling response as his finger flicking her clamped nipple. “You’re very responsive, slut” he said aloud, “and I bet, I just bet, that if my finger took the southern trail, it would find a flood of pussy juice leaking out of you, wouldn’t it?”
She shook her head, vehemently. She was not turned on. She was not turned on. She was not…He held up his finger, slid it down her slit, and brought it to her nose. He wiped the wetness that covered his finger around and in her nostrils.
“See? Didn’t I tell you? Wet. No,– you’re more than just wet. Drenched! You are one horny slut.” Still holding her eyes, he slapped her mons several times; wet, loud smacks that reverberated around the room, and deep into her core. Her breathing deepened, her eyes darkened.
“More?” he asked softly, his hand poised above her pussy. She stared at him. He waited. One heart beat. Two. There. Her head nodded, the barest fraction. He slapped her again. And again. And again. Her eyes closed, squeezed tightly shut against her coming orgasm, when he stopped. Laughed.
“That’s way, way too easy, slut. You’re going to have to work for the next orgasm I decide you can have.” She glared at him, her eyes shooting dark blue sparks at him. He was in control and she knew it and hated it, even as her body proved the opposite.
Quickly he released her from the bed, then dragged her into the bathroom. He let her pee, although it was terribly hard to do so while he watched her. Leaning into the corner, arms crossed, ankles crossed, he was the picture of relaxation. He smiled mockingly at her.
“Trouble starting? Should I turn on the water spigot? ” She shook her head, blushing. Her aching bladder was no match for her embarrassment, however, and soon a torrent poured from her.
“Guess you should have gone a bit easier on the soda while you were looking for your mark downstairs, eh?” he mocked her discomfiture. She was mortified when he took the toilet tissue and pulling her from the toilet, bent her over his knee, braced on the edge of the tub, and wiped her from behind. Her blush covered her from face to tit.
“Modesty, now? Tut tut, sugarplum,” he teased her. ” A bit late for all of this blushing, don’t you think?” And he chucked her under her chin like an infant, and laughed at her. She glared, but that only made him laugh harder.
With her ankles tied tightly together, and her wrists secured behind her she was fully dependent on him to move her around. She was shocked when he laid her on her tummy on the bathroom floor. The marble was icy cold. The soft chink of her nipple chain on the floor was the only sound as she felt him doing something behind her. She felt her feet rising ,and an increased pull on her wrists, and realised he was hogtieing her. A final loop of rope drew around her throat.
“You’ll be fine if you don’t struggle. If you do, you will choke. Room service will be here shortly. Once they have set up my lunch, I may consider letting you have something to eat. Be a good girl and be quiet. The better behaved you are, the faster you earn that orgasm your pussy is dying for.” With that, he left the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
She could not believe that arrogant, fucking son-of-a-bitch BASTARD! Who the holy FUCK did he think he was. Lousy goddamn fucker!! She barely heard the knock on the outer door of the room through her rage. She heard his voice, pleasantly modulated, as he greeted the server. She tried to cry out, to writhe closer to the door to bang on it with her trussed body, but her increasing struggles drew the noose on her neck tighter, and tighter still. She felt her breath hitch, her vision began to blur, then speckles of darkness began to play before her, and she passed out.
She woke to silence. She was shivering now, her tits freezing, despite the burning heat from her tormented nipples. How long had she been in here? It felt like hours.
The door opened, and she tried to crane her neck back further to see him. He slapped her leg, and began to unfasten her. Taking a fistful of hair, he pulled her to her feet, unmindful of her cramping legs and aching arms. As he loosened the noose from her neck, he grinned.
“Had to prove me right again, eh slut? Had a nice nap then, did you?” She wanted to kick the laugh right out of him, but she didn’t dare. He led her to where a small table was set for one. He halted her, then, moving the table from in front of the chair, he pushed her to stand facing the chair. Pushing firmly on her shoulders,he brought her to her knees. Behind her, she heard the distinctive sound of a zipper being drawn down. Then the sound of one leg, and the other being pulled from jeans. Stepping around and over her, he sat in the chair. Naked, his magnificent cock there, just in front of her hungering mouth. Her eyes locked on it, then looked up at him.
“Told you I’d give you something to eat, slut. Now get to work. And you don’t want to know what I’ll do if you use teeth.
He was right. She didn’t want to know. She felt like the slut he kept calling her as she bent to her task, bent to his will, bent to her need to have that cock in her mouth. Damn him. Damn him. Damn her. And damn her traitorous leaking pussy. She ate. She feasted. She enjoyed every moment and made certain he did, too.
“Where’s your stuff?”
His voice, gruff with fatigue, growled into her ear through the darkness of the room. He had finished his dinner, she had finished blowing him, and then he’d pulled her up on the bed, still bound at the wrists. He secured her feet together, tight. Uncomfortably tight. There was no way she could move off the bed and get anywhere…except by rolling. Since she couldn’t open the door, that was pretty futile.
He’d warned her about making noise, or she would find her mouth gagged yet again. The ballgag was uncomfortable enough, and messy enough to make her nod “okay”. Likewise, his alternative gag, the washcloth and tape,was just terrifying. What if she swallowed the washcloth in her sleep. He wouldn’t care if she died. After all, he’d caught her in the act of burglarizing his room.
She must have dozed, because his voice, when it came, startled her. The room was pitch dark, but his body was warm behind her. She was naked, having had her dress cut off earlier, so his body heat was welcome. He kept the room fairly chilly. She felt her nipples rise at the faint eddy of air moving in the room. That was the only reason, and had nothing to do with him. His arms around her were tight as restraints but also warm. Strong. He was very strong. He’d hauled her around the room like she weighed nothing at all. She was not attracted to him. Much.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, little girl,” his voice was colder now. She felt the rasp of a day’s beard growth against her neck where he leaned on her.
“What stuff” she whispered, remembering his admonishment to be quiet.
“Listen, slut, I know you have a room here. No woman traipsed around hotels without a purse and yet, you had none in the lobby, nor one now. Where are you keeping your haul, your tools, and your clothing?”
She was quiet, thinking fast. If he found her room, he’d likely turn her in. She’d had a good 3 days here, jewelry, cash, and the like stashed in her locked bags in her room. Damn him! She moaned as he pinched her nipple firmly. Kept squeezing. She pushed back against him, felt his cock hardening against her ass. The pain in her already sore nipples was intense and she began talking fast.
“I-i keep my handbag in the hotel lobby safe…my keycard is in there. But I can’t go get it now because you ruined my dress. ”
He grunted a response, still squeezing her nipple.
“Please,” she gasped, “oh OW!” and her voice squealed louder as she felt the edge of his thumbnail digging into her. “Okay, okay, room 309!” She moaned in relief when his hand left her nipple.
“Listen,” she whispered, “if you get me a dress or something to wear, I’ll go down to the lobby, and get the keycard and bring it to you, okay? Then I’ll just disappear and you’ll never have to see me again. Keep the stuff you find in my room. Deal?”
She craned her head back to try to look at him, but his face was lost in the darkness. His hand rubbed up and down on her hip, occasionally sliding around to her belly and ass. She didn’t welcome the need that was building inside of her, not one bit. No.
“And then you’ll call the cops and I get busted for your thievery? I think not.” He replied and she heard the humor in his voice. He slapped her ass, firmly, then she felt him rising from the bed. The lamp across the room snapped on, and the dim illumination showed him, his cock rising before him, and his beautiful ass. Damn that man. Why did he have to be so powerfully attractive. And so fucking dominating. She hated that. Didn’t she? Ignoring him for the moment, she mused on her reactions to him manhandling her. She’d never been all that horny before, she could take or leave sex, frankly. But he’d already given her several body shaking orgasms, something no other lover had ever managed to do. Not that he was her lover. He was a Bastard. With a capitol B!
He came back to the bed, sitting facing her. He started talking as he began releasing her hands.
“You will wear this. Only this. I think a little humiliation is in order, and frankly it will amuse me no end to see you walking through the lobby in my tee-shirt. ” She stared at him in horror. “Maybe I’ll let you keep the heels on. That would be a nice touch. All tousled like you are, you look like you’ve been completely fucked. Which you have, and in every sense of the word. You’ll ask for your purse, and then we’ll slowly exit from the lobby. Head on up to your room. See what you have up there, little girl.”
He held out his shirt to her. It wasn’t oversized as some men preferred, and as he released her legs and helped her to stand, she could feel the hem of it barely grazing her upper thighs.
“I can’t go into the lobby like this!” she protested.
“Prefer just the heels then?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. She looked at the floor, knowing that he would make her do just that. She shook her head, heard his chuckle. Fucking Bastard. She fumed silently. His fist pulled a handful of hair, raising her face.
“Be a good girl. No pouting, No sign that you’re in distress. Or I will have to report that you came into my room, unannounced. And you’ll be at the police station in that outfit. ”
She stared at his amused face, glared for a moment, then dropped her gaze. He shook her head with his fist. She winced at the pain of her pulled hair, then sullenly, quietly said “okay”. That was the best he was going to get out of her, he knew. That was okay, he’d made his point. He released her, then walked across the room and tossed her shoes at her. While she fastened them on, he pulled on his jeans.
The entered the lobby, a striking couple, doubly so because of their attire. She, ruffled, mussed clad in a mans white tee-shirt, and heels, he in jeans, no shoes, no socks, no shirt. She charmed the desk clerk by admitting she’d forgotten all about her purse in her hasty departure, and the young man hastily swallowed her story, oogling the nipples that pressed against the thin shirt. He returned with her purse, and was treated to a lovely view of her reddened ass as the man , hand pressed against her lower back, coyly raised the back hem. He watched her gorgeous butt until the elevator doors closed.
Some guys had all the luck. So they got all the fuck. The desk clerk went back to his paperwork. But he was smiling.
He slipped into room 309 quietly. He finally found the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the top of the television, half-hidden by an open box of PopTarts. Grinning, he snagged two packs and put them into his shirt pocket, then hung the tag on the hall side of the door.
Quickly and efficiently he went around the room. He opened the lock on the smaller of the two suitcases, found the “secret” compartment. He let out an appreciative whistle at the nearly $10,000. he found hidden within, and shook his head over the diamond engagement ring in the other compartment. So tacky, stealing someones engagement ring. You had to draw a line in the sand somewhere, he thought, and she had most definitely crossed it. He left the money where he found it, pocketed the ring in his trousers.
Hefting the larger suitcase on the bed, he found her clothing, all very nice designer knockoff’s, complete ensembles. Shoes, faux jewels, accessories. Enough to let him know she’d planned to stay here about a week. In yet another compartment, carefully wrapped was an assortment of gold chains, a few watches, a credit card which read “James Conroy”, two ladies watches, and an assortment of casino chips.
He continued around the room, still not finding what he was seeking. Her purse had contained little beyond her room key, a lipstick and $3.00 in change. Finally, scattered in the pages of the Bible provided by the hotel, he found what he was looking for.
As he tipped it upside down and began fanning the pages, out fell a passport, and two drivers’ licenses. Same picture. Two different names. Picking up the passport, he compared that to the other two. Honey Maxwell. He knew the Maxwell name, but doubted she was related. She did have a certain air about her that bespoke breeding, but still. Someone related to the billionaire Maxwell family hardly had to casino-hop to survive, let alone use those casino’s as a cover for a nice little bit of larceny.
Grabbing up the suitcases, he proceeded back to his room.
Opening the door, he tossed the suitcases into the closet, paying no attention to the struggling bound and gagged woman on the bed.
“One more errand, Honey, and then I’ll be back. You have some ‘splainin’ to do.” he threw over his shoulder in his best “Ricky Ricardo” voice. He went out to the hallway, fingering the diamond as he waited for the elevator doors to open. When he arrived in the lobby, he strode purposefully towards the front desk.
First he handed the diamond ring to the clerk.
“Found this in the corner by the window on the third floor,” he improvised, with a casual smile.
“Figured that someone was missing it real bad..either “he” because he’d not yet proposed, or “she” because she’d said yes and then lost the ring!”
The desk clerk took the ring, and thanked him. Told him that, in fact, the unlucky, yet hopeful, groom had lost the ring before the proposal, and had actually thought about reporting it stolen, despite him knowing it had been in his pocket.’
“You’ve just made a young man very happy!” said the clerk with a smile as he put down the phone. Indeed, the whoop of joy had come through the ear piece loud and clear.
He smiled, then went on to his next order of business. Handing over her room card, he told them that “Honey” and he had gotten cozy with each other, and she was now staying with him. Currently, she was tied up in his room with her stuff, and he was helping her out by returning her room key.
The desk clerk, spotting the exuberant young groom coming from the elevator, quickly took the keycard, and cancelled the room for Honey Maxwell. Informing him that her credit card would not be billed for the rest of her stay, he thanked him once more for turning in the ring.
He walked across the lobby, went outside to enjoy the fresh air. Seeing the coffee shop across the street, he went over and bought two coffee’s. Heading back to the hotel, he chucked to himself. Hell of a day’s work, and it wasn’t even lunch time yet! He tapped the breast pocket where the Poptarts crinkled in their silvery wraps. A treat…and then…a treat.
God he loved his work!
He pulled the blindfold securely over her eyes. Her tightly trussed arms and torso were kept motionless by his efficient binding, but her feet were kicking up a storm.
He pulled her upright easily, and led her, protesting and fighting, to the center of the room. Holding the rope securing her hands in his large hand, he threaded it through the ring that hung just above her head and pulled. Her arms, tied behind her, pulled up by the wrists. She began to bend over to accommodate the pulling on her arms. A long, low moan came from behind her gag as he pulled her tight. It was an uncomfortable position, to be sure, but he really wanted to make a point with her. This was the best way. A quick, harsh lesson in obedience.
Her ass, bare and vulnerable was exposed to him. He stood behind her, surveying her form. Lovely. And soon to be made fully His. He went to the chair where his suit pants lay, folded neatly. After pulling his belt from the loops, he dug in the front pocket and retrieved his cell phone.
He made a brief phone call, his tone too low for her to hear. Her arms were killing her, and she was so afraid of falling. Bent, exposed, she seethed. And yet, dammit. He turned her the fuck on. He’d played with her, pulling her nipples, teasing her clit, just before he’d bound her wrists and strung her up. Now her cunt was pulsing with need, she was juicy wet, and although she hated to admit it, terrifyingly excited. Lost in thought she didn’t clue in to the faint swish until the white-hot slap registered on her upturned ass.
“MMMMWWWWW!” She screamed through the gag.
Again her ass took his belt. God! Help! Sto-o–p!!! He could not understand her words, buried behind the undies stuffed into her face, sealed with silver tape. Still, she tried. Tried earnestly. Until she broke. The first cry escaped her nose. A broken whimper. Then the tears came. One. Two. Six. Then a torrent as she sobbed. He pulled the tape from her mouth. Slapped her ass again. He reached forward again, and pulled the undies from within, and she took a deep, sobbing breath. Her lungs were on fire. Her ass was on fire. God. SHE HURT! And then he hit her ass again.
She took it. Crying silently, knowing that no sound she made would stop him. She had her pride. The tears she couldn’t hold back, but she would take this. Overcome it.
His fingers found her slit. It was throbbing and wet. Slick and wet. Her cunt hole was leaking every bit as much as her tear filled eyes. He began slowly, slowly filling her cunt with his fingers, parting her swollen lower lips and flitting up and down across her opening. He watched her fluids slip from her, tiny pearls of need. Her moan as he pushed deeper, withdrew, pushed back, withdrew, told him all he needed to know.
He pulled his fingers from her. They came away with a sucking sound. He wiped her wetness on her flaming ass cheek. He pushed into her, hard and throbbing. His cock slid in easily, her cunt making slurping sounds as if swallowing him. His thighs burned from the heat in her ass as he pumped into her swollen slit, and twin moans of pleasure filled the room. Reaching forward, he grabbed her swinging tits, using them to pull himself deeper into her channel. Wetness oozed from her, ran down his balls and her thighs. She was perfection! Pain and pleasure brought her to hot, wet, and incredibly needy. He was more than ready to answer her need with his own. Beat after beat he rode into her, and she pushed back, grunting with the position, her sore arms, and her aching , begging cunt. The shiver ran from her clit to her neck as she felt her pussy begin to tighten, squeezing down on his cock as her orgasm exploded. He held on for a few more deep, thrusting strokes then his cock clenched and doused her with more wetness. He stroked her soft belly as his cock poured his release into her, pulled her hips back against him, until he softened and slipped from her. He leaned against her ass for a few minutes, recovering.
He leaned forward, flicked her cheek with a finger. Kissing her neck he murmured “nice”, before pushing away.
Crossing the room, he took the chair from the desk and pulled it under her so she could rest her shoulders and upper torso upon it. She heard him digging under the bed but had no idea what he was doing now. Her attention was solely on her burning ass and needy pussy. She felt him attaching something to her ankle. He kicked her legs further apart, then attached something to her other ankle. Now she stood, spread wide, unable to close her legs. Still in a place somewhere between euphoria and floating emptiness, she didn’t at first hear the soft knock on their door.
He let his friend into the room. Watched as Walters eyes lit with amusement and admiration. He watched Walt’s face as he observed the fluids dripping from her onto the floor between her spread legs.
“You’re such a lucky fucker, you know that, right?” They grinned at each other.
Her head came up at the strange voice. Blindfolded, she saw nothing. As she opened her mouth to protest, to …say anything, he pressed the ball gag deeply into her. Fastened it tightly.
“You’re going to want to bite down on this. That’s why it’s there. I told you that you are mine now. And now I’m making it permanent. Walt will put my tattoo on your ass. The more you stay steady and cooperate, the faster it will be over. There is one other modification I will be making, and when done, you will be mine and mine alone. ”
“You came here to steal from me. Now, I have stolen you.”
” Seems fair to me,” she heard the man named Walt say. He was behind her now, and she felt his cold hand on her burning ass.
“Here?” she heard him ask as he wiped his hand down the curve of her cheek.
“No, here,” and she felt Him smack his hand firmly on her reddened butt…midcheek.
“Can you follow that or do you want to trace it?
It didn’t take much longer than an hour to trace her owners hand on her asscheek. She did scream when his name was carved into the center of the “palm”.
How fucking appropriate.
She lay on the bed crying quietly. She wasn’t sobbing, but slow hot tears trickled from her eyes, slid across her cheek to be absorbed by the pillow under her head.
She lay on her left side, and He, the Bastard, lay behind her, spooning her. His leg was between hers, possessively hooked around her lower leg. One strong arm lay under her neck, and the other curled over her side, and lay passively, pinned between her full breasts.
She breathed in and out slowly, trying to dismiss the burning ache in her right butt cheek where a new tattoo was beginning to heal. Trying to dismiss the burning ache in her chest that she’d been well and truly caught. She, who relished freedom, snared. She tried to look on the bright side. She wasn’t in prison, and the Bastard certainly knew his way around a woman’s body. Despite the bondage, the whipping, the sheer implacable will of his demands on her, she enjoyed him sexually. Like she’d never enjoyed sex before. She tried not to think that this was the missing ingredient in her sex life. Tried not to think about how hot and wet her cunt grew at the thought of his hands slapping her tits, whipping her ass. She felt slickery moisture begin to seep, and even as she noted it, her tears began to dry.
He began to wake. His stiffening cock began to poke along her ass crack. She moaned, just a little. Even she didn’t know if it was lust or annoyance. Annoyance. Had to be.
“No, you Bastard!” she hissed, as his hands came to palm and mold her breasts, pulling and twisting her nipples.
He ignored her.
“NO! you BASTARD!!” she hissed louder as he continued fondling and teasing her tits, milking her nipples.
He released one tit, slid the palm of his hand over her abused ass. Rubbed none to gently over the fresh tat.
“Owwww” she moaned, pulling away.
He pulled her back, reclaiming her tit.
“Mine. Remember that.” He said quietly into her ear, even as he eased his cock into her cunt from behind. He fucked her slowly, easily. It may have gone on for hours, days, weeks. A slow, steady in-and-out until without warning, she arched her back and moaned. She began thrusting backwards impaling herself deeper on his cock.
In the darkness above her head, he smiled. He was a bastard. Proud of it, too, truth be told. And she was definitely his. Hell of a package. Better than diamonds, more fun than a girlfriend. She had spunk, creativity, and a fucking fine ass. Or was that a fine ass for fucking. Both. Yeah.
He pushing a bit harder, as she continued pushing back into him. The squelching wetness of her grasping, greedy cunt welcomed his hardness. The soft folds of her body opened for him, the slickness gilded his cock, allowing him safe passage into her hot harbor.
When they exploded, it was nearly synchronous, twin moans, twin geysers of hot juices mingling. As his cock slowly subsided, he kept his hips pushed into her ass, keeping him nested inside of her for as long as possible.
She woke slowly, groggy from another night of intense sex. He must have made her orgasm 10 times, a new record for her. He’d spanked her, tickled her, clamped her nipples which were now incredibly sensitive, and fucked her to kingdom come. The entire time, she was cuffed to the headboard. She was really starting to loathe those cuffs. It wasn’t as if she was running anytime soon. He’d claimed ownership of her. Marked her ass with his hand and his name. And chained her to him with a need she’d never been able to express or understand before.
He came out of the bathroom, met her eyes. His were solemn, and she wondered, “what now”? Coming to the bed, he uncuffed her wrists, and sent her to the potty. She stared at him.
“You pee when I say you pee. Go.” He shooed her out of the bedroom. She went, but he could see resistance in her yet. He had time. Plenty of time. A lifetime of training, and it still wouldn’t completely bank the fire in that one. And he didn’t mind that a bit.
He moved to the bathroom door, watching her on the toilet. She blushed, trying to ignore his stare. He commented on it, of course. Told her she’d need to get used to it.
“I feel like a dog on a leash when you watch me,” she complained.
“You are on a leash, ” he responded, “but you’re prettier than my last dog. Not by much, but…” He laughed as she threw a glare at him. When she finished, he took her arm. When she would have passed him to leave the bathroom, he shook his head, pushed her towards the tub.
“In,” he commanded.
“I don’t want a shower,” she responded, not quite able to keep the petulant note out of her voice.
He ignored her, again, and pushed her none too gently into the tub. They tussled there for a moment, before the look in his eye convinced her to get into the tub.
There were two grab bars spaced a brief distance apart. He pushed her between them, then positioned her hands so she was grabbing the bar near the top, her forearms laying vertically, along the cold metal rod. He took a roll of ace bandage from his pocket, and began wrapping her arm and the pole together, from elbow to wrist. The excess he wrapped around her hand until her arm and the grab bar were totally covered.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, a slight note of worry in her voice.
“You know the wall here is fucking cold!”
“My feet are freezing!”
He ignored her, taking a second roll of the bandage out of his other pocket, and securing her other arm in the same way as the first. When he was done, he surveyed his handiwork.
“Let me out of here, you fucker!”
This last complaint drew his attention. She swallowed hard at the look in his eye. She tried to pull away, but she was tightly secured. She could toss her head, move her legs, but her torso and arms were locked against the wall.
“S-sorry,” she said, finally, defeated just by that look.
“Yes, you will be,” he responded. “In the time and way of my choosing, you will be punished for your…rudeness.”
She shivered, and not from the cold tile at her back.
He left the room, drawing his cell phone from his pocket. He closed the door to the bathroom, but she heard his murmured conversation. Knew he was talking about her. O gawd! Please not the tattoo guy again??!
A few minutes later there was a quiet knock on the door. Two male voices. Two? Joined His. Sounds of male camaraderie. Arms slapping, laughter. She shivered again.
Closed her eyes tight as the voices came closer to the bathroom door. Then, defiant, not willing to show HIM how frightened he made her, she opened them, and glared.
The door opened.
Her eyes were open, staring at the bathroom door, which was slowly opening. She heard his voice, saw him, turned away from her, talking to someone behind him.
“You won’t believe it, really.” He was saying, then, pushing the bathroom door open wide, presented her with a flourish.
Flashing blue daggers sparked from her eyes, spearing him, which made him laugh. Her little defiance’s often did that. Naked but for the ace bandages that secured her arms to the two grab bars on the shower wall, she presented a beautiful captive picture to the two men who entered the room behind her Master.
The older of the two whistled softly, taking in her full tits, peaked by large nipples, now hard and pointy. He looked long and deeply at her, taking in her long legs, her shaved pussy, and last, her face. He started to approach the tub where she was bound to the wall, but was forestalled by her Master.
“She kicks,” he warned the older man.
“Of course she does,” he responded with a smile. He was charming, actually, and despite her rather strange circumstance, she found herself calming. The second man she ignored entirely. The tattoo guy. The guy who had very quickly, and quite painfully, applied the outline of her master’s hand on her asscheek, and then wrote Master’s name inside it. Bastard. She would pay that fucker no mind at all. None.
Master went left the bathroom, returned quickly with a chair. He set it into the tub, then sat in it, effectively blocking her legs from kicking out.
He rose from the chair, gestured to the Old Man to take his place.
“Pat, meet my slave. This is the woman you’ve been looking for.
“I can hardly credit that such a lovely young lady has been responsible for fleecing my customers to the tune of …how much did you say ? Ten thousand bucks? A diamond engagement ring, watches, necklaces? ” He shook his head, as he sat in the chair. He put his knees between her legs, spreading her.
She flushed, swallowed hard. Seeking to avoid his gaze, she looked towards her Master. He stood, back braced against the wall, arms crossed, looking very pleased.
“Your Master has told me of your thievery. You are a very clever young woman. I’m about to make you an offer that I’ve only made once before.” he paused, turned to look at Master, who smiled fondly at the man before her.
‘My name is Patrick King. I am the owner of this hotel, as well as several others in the region. Your Master has asked me to not use his name in your presence right now, and I agree. Now, we could be very unpleasant and call the local constabulary, and you would be arrested, tried, and found quite guilty. There you would be, little miss, locked in the local penitentiary for women, an extremely unpleasant place for one of your fine assets. And such a waste. ”
He paused, and she visibly gulped. He was every bit as “masterly” as her Master was. Compelling, he would have held her attention just with the nature of his presence, even if she hadn’t been bound to the wall. She watched him rise slowly from the chair, then blinked as he brought his face right in front of hers. She was well and damned intimidated, although she tried like hell not to show it. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, heart rate quickened, and her breath hitched in her throat. Yet, she continued to stare directly into his eyes.
Dark serious eyes looked deeply into hers, until at last, she could take no more, and dropped hers. His hand rose to cup her chin. Blue flashed up at him, then dropped again.
“Good” he said, “you understand your place in this.”
His other hand skimmed down her body, pausing to gently squeeze a nipple, knead her breast. His hand was large, warm, dry. Working hands. She gasped when one palm slid across her sex, one finger dragged through her lower lips, lightly grazing her clit.
“Very nice, ” he murmured, looking over his shoulder at Master. “You’ve chosen well.” Nodding, he sat down again.
“Once long ago, I caught a thief, here in this very hotel. He was just a boy trying to be a man, and he was a very talented fellow. Picked my pocket when I strong-armed him from the lobby to my office. This was my first, you see, and I was very hands on back then. I gave him the same choice I now present to you, young woman. You can work for me, a very private, very elite security team, or you can go to prison. Of course, your Master would make your prison a very private dungeon, where you would never again see the light of day. He deserves a lovely thing like you to play with at the end of a rough day. ”
“If you choose to work with us, I demand no less than your unswerving loyalty…something you must already have understood that you will give to your Master. I know of his … unusual sexual appetites. I applaud them, and have encouraged them. You could say, I introduced the life to him. And he has exceeded his teachers greatest expectations. ”
The old man smiled once more at Master.
“I look on him as a son. He has served me well…and now you have the opportunity to join him. Both as his slave, and as his assistant.”
She stared at him. This was totally unexpected. She was actually speechless.
“Well?” Patrick asked her.
“Yes! yes, of course, i’m ….”
“Good. Now, of course, there will be training, which your Master will see to. But there must also be punishment. You have stolen from my guests. Stolen from me. No crime such as that will go unrewarded. Now we shall be stealing from you. First, your freedom.” He gestured to the tattoo man.
“Bill, go ahead and fix our little lady up as we agreed.”
She tried to see what Fucking Bill was doing, but her attention was diverted when Patrick began to gently saw his finger through her slit again. He kept hitting her clit. It was a light, teasing touch, but it got her attention. Pegged to the wall as she was, she couldn’t push her body down to get more pressure. She couldn’t close her legs because he was sitting between them.
“mmmm, ” he murmured, “you’re getting nice and wet, little girl.” And his finger continued the slow torturous tease of her clit and lips.
Bill came to stand directly in front of her. He pinched a caliper on her nipple, jolting her out of her pleasure-trance.
“OW! Fucker!!! What the hell…” She yelped again as Patrick pinched down on her clit.
“Ladies don’t say ‘fucker’ ” he admonished her. “Please apologize to Bill.” He kept squeezing her clit, then increased the pressure as she remained stubbornly silent. Finally she could take no more, and apologized, just as Bill slid the needle through her nipple.
“I’m sorreeeeeeeeeee” she screamed, torn between pains. Her nipple was on fire, her clit was pulsing and hurting and somehow she was getting turned on too.
A ring was pushed through the hole, and to her horror, a solder gun appeared in Bill’s hand.
“I wouldn’t move much if I were you, miss” drawled Bill as he quickly soldered the ring closed.
He moved out of the tub to work on her other breast. The ring was large, rather thick. A round bead covered the solder. Damn! She had never wanted to mar her body in this way! Now she had a tat AND rings.
“These are special rings, ” her Master’s voice grabbed her attention. She blinked away tears, watched His face intently. “Within each ring is a micro-GPS device. I will always, always know where you are. In this manner, we are bound.”
“Witnessed!” said Patrick, still rubbing her abused clit. “This is a very wet cunt, by the way.”
Master laughed. “Don’t I know it, Sir,” he replied. “One of her many charms!”
Mentally, she growled. She’d charm him all right. Charm his fucking nuts right the fuck off. Pierce her nipples? Why she’d…
…her thoughts were interrupted as Fucking Bill pierced her other nipple. The smell of the solder turned her stomach, or maybe it was the knowledge that she was now well and truly a “kept” woman. A slave, a piece of property, owned by the slick Bastard who had caught her. Owned. Lock and key.
Her nipples burned. Throbbed. Every breath was torment.
Bill stepped away, admiring his handiwork.
“Nice tits, good rings, ” he approved. The men shook his hand, and he went into the other room. She blinked and blinked, trying to clear the tears from her eyes.
“If you’re done abusing me, perhaps you’ll let me go now?” she spoke acidly to her Master.
Patrick answered, shaking his head. “You’ve not yet paid your debt, young lady. Losing your freedom gained you much advantage, though I don’t expect you to understand that just yet. Now you will pay your debt to me.”
She watched as Master plugged in a strange looking wand. It was white, with an overlarge foam type of head. A flick of the switch and she heard the hum.
Patrick took the wand from Master, and pressed it into her mons. The vibration was very intense…stronger than anything she’d felt before. She moaned. Her clit was already distended from all the foreplay. The vibe sent her over the edge, and her orgasm overtook her swiftly. The vibe stayed in place. A second orgasm took her by surprise, right after the first.
For two hours he kept bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. They would stop occasionally, giving her water, putting a plug up her ass, or fucking her with a second vibrator while the wand stayed on her clit. When they stopped, finally, she was wrung out, shaking. If she hadn’t been secured to the bathroom wall, she would have fallen.
As Master began to unwind her arms from their bondage, Patrick kissed her abused pussy.
“Time to fuck this pretty doll,” he said.
She moaned, but could not stop the curious thrill that ran through her that this strange and quietly domineering man would be taking.
Just as he had taught the boy, so too was he teaching her.
‘Don’t fuck with me, or my stuff, or you’ll be fucked in the end.’ He seemed to be saying. Yet he was also giving her entree into a special and privileged world.
She found she couldn’t really be sorry about it. Not about the tattoo, not even the terrible nipple rings that he could use to track her. Not even about the tough stranger who had caught and tamed her.
Not that least of all.