Captive (Social Experiments #1) (11 page)

“Awww,” Sam lamented. “Well… okay. Hope we can play again soon.”

“Another time,” Cassie said. She smiled down at her son then turned the cheery expression on me. “Invitation is always open if you want chaotic company.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I unlocked the building’s front door and held it open for them. After another goodbye to Sam, I stepped into my apartment while they headed upstairs to the third floor.

While in the kitchen, I shuffled through paper menus until I found a place Yvonne favored. I placed the order first then darted downstairs to free her from confinement.

For the first time since her captivity began, I left her alone to freshen up in the basement without standing guard at the door. Tonight was a big night for us. We planned to discuss her potential freedom and the path our relationship had taken.

She deserved the chance to shower in privacy and enjoy a taste of freedom again.

Chapter 8

I removed a dozen dvds from the cases, Yvonne’s favorite movies, and brought them to the basement in a travel binder. I also brought my delivery order: hot wings, a lobster salad, and a two-liter of Pepsi to share.

The mood was perfect, as if we hadn’t indulged in carnal acts and slept together. We were friends again for the first time since I executed the initial steps of my plan. Nothing sexual occurred between us since she blew me, and I refrained from coaxing her into intimacy. I thought that if enough time passed, she’d show me signs of her temptation.

“I haven’t had a soda in weeks,” she murmured as she screwed off the lid. She swigged straight from the bottle and scrunched her nose when the acidic bubbles burned her mouth.

“Eight days,” I corrected, rolling my eyes. “It’s nice to see that you’re no less prone to exaggeration.”

The portable dvd player was last year’s Christmas gift to her from her friend Maggie. It didn’t see much use, except for our drive down to Florida to goof off at Disney World over Spring break.

“The days all blend down here. There’s no sunlight, and you only left me with that clock on the wall. How long have I…?” The sentence died on her lips and she cast her gaze low to the side.

“Eight days, like I said,” I confirmed.

“My parents? Are… are they alright now?” Her head dropped a little, lowering her eyes to her lap.

Reaching over to touch Yvonne’s chin, I nudged until her green eyes raised to my face. I smiled at her. “It’s exactly like I already told you. Nobody is really worried yet. Maggie thinks you’re on a beach celebrating graduation without them. Your parents believe you had a tantrum about Greg missing out on your pinning ceremony. Your dad is a little worried, your mom’s pissed…”

“Nothing I do is ever good enough for her. I’m not even the one at fault this time and she’s pissed at me?”

I’d heard this a thousand times in the past. Yvonne and her mother had a kind of love-hate relationship. For as long as I’d known Yvonne, her mother had the obnoxious habit of pissing away her husband’s money by forcibly enrolling their daughter into a dozen extracurricular activities and sports. Girl scouts, choir, beauty pageants, ballet, gymnastics, and swim team. When I first met Yvonne during our freshman year of high school, it was riding lessons and a $20,000 show horse.

So when Yvonne ran away our junior year with a thirty year old man, her mother and father lost their shit. It wasn’t the first time Yvonne split to get out from beneath Marie’s demanding household rules. Mr. Mitchell tried to corral his wife, but he was only one man. Yvonne was their only child, a daughter, and thus subject to the whims of a wife wanting to live vicariously through her little girl.

“Your mother loves you, Yvie. I know she’s rough on you, but at least you have a mom.”

She winced and pulled away. “Sorry, Jake.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her. It wasn’t her fault cancer killed my mom.

Her timid smile appeared above her blanket shrouded shoulder. It was the first time I saw a true smile from Yvonne since I’d taken her captive.

Following our shy sexual encounter, I had given Yvonne more blankets. The blowjob had been satisfying, but I craved something else. I wanted to make her writhe and cry out beneath me, desperate for more and filled with wanton lust. I wanted to make her scream my name and claw my back, demanding me to take her again and again.

“Are you going to pick a movie?” she asked.

“You pick. Hey, I brought some of your books, too.”

I’d brought her smut collection, more toiletries, and a few other favored items from her room down in a laundry hamper along with a fresh blanket. Hopefully, my offerings brought liveliness to the dreary subterranean space.

Yvonne chose her favorite movie, a French romantic war film starring an actor she liked. Like her mother, she spoke the language fluently. “Thanks… I… can I…?” She stopped and looked away, losing her nerve. She hit play and settled again with her security quilt wrapped securely around her shoulders.

“No, what is it?”

Yvonne shook her head.

“I’m still Jake, Yvie. I’m doing this because I care. Just say it and let me decide if it’s okay.”

Yvonne inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it. “When can I have more clothes?”

My groin tightened, a reaction that surprised me in light of her question. The dress I’d given her was in the wash. “You can have the rest of your clothes when they are not needed again,” I said.

Her quizzical expression didn’t fade.

“You’re hiding beneath a blanket now and it’s pretty warm here. Kind of comfortable now that I brought that little fan blower and heater down for you. You can have clothes again when you’re comfortable in your own skin, Yvonne. Hell, you’re fucking gorgeous. Before this, I saw you in swimsuits that are barely legal for public viewing.”

“That was different…”

“Was it?” I wanted her to remember our weeklong visit to Florida, the sunny days at the beach, the fun at the theme parks, and the drive full of laughter and singing. “Remember when I walked in on you changing in our hotel room?”

“God, I bitched at you so hard you were still knocking on the stairwell once we got home.”

I grinned at her and nodded my head. Her smile returned, shaky but present. That’s what I wanted to see.

In the past, Yvonne decided when to prance around me practically in the nude. In a way, the decision remained hers even now: to retain her blanket or to cast it aside in favor of delayed gratification. Would she have her blanket now or earn clothes later?

The heavy quilt slipped down from her shoulders and fell behind her. She sat with her knees drawn toward her chest, but the position left nothing to the imagination.

No, this wasn’t about her being shy, or even wanting to hide away from me. A stroke of understanding sizzled into my brain, unveiling a sudden revelation: Yvonne was playing hard to get. A woman didn’t put on a fashion show one day then shyly hide beneath a blanket the next. No, that wasn’t her style.

“And you’re still hiding from me… You know what that means, baby. You’re behaving like a bad girl.” Yvonne shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold. I had hit the nail on the head.

Among the other things she confessed as her kinks, I’d also discovered spanking to be one of her biggest turn ons. A paddle, my bare hand, it didn’t matter to her - she just craved a red ass and heated attention. I couldn’t believe my luck, but I hadn’t dared to try it until now. I’d only promised it would come.

“Are you going to punish me?” she asked, coyly whispering. We both had full bellies, but food didn’t sate the other growing hunger I experienced. I took a position on one knee and claimed a handful of her dark hair. Wrapping it around my fist, I hauled her over my knee and exposed her bare ass. I squeezed and kneaded porcelain skin. Yvonne was perfection, and she didn’t even realize it. Plump, perfectly round, and dimpled enough to indicate she loved Guinness, pizza, and steak.

My palm cracked against her ass hard enough for Yvonne to flinch. I kept it light, always cautious to err on the side of playful instead of dealing actual damage. I couldn’t bear it if I caused serious bruising, but I discovered immense pleasure in the sight of her reddened cheeks. I slapped her again, applying more pressure to deliver a considerable sting. This time, I earned a surprised squeak.

“How do you feel about me seeing you nude?” I slapped her ass again, leaving the perfect outline of my hand imprinted against her formerly ivory skin.

“I love it!” she cried out. Her breath quickened and she squirmed against my leg.

“Why?” I asked. I tested the bare skin between her thighs and became thrilled when I found her to be as wet as expected.

“Because I… I…” She hesitated to respond. I smacked her again, once, twice, a third time in rapid succession. She moaned and rubbed her thighs together, as if it would conceal what I already knew.

“You what?” I asked.

“I keep hoping you’ll touch me!” she screamed on the next strike.

My cock hardened and twitched in my jeans.

“Why don’t you ask for it? Why hide?” I continued to punish her, swapping to the other cheek and alternating the slaps now. My hand stung and my palm itched, but I didn’t stare to stop until I saw her fingers creeping toward her snatch. I intercepted them and delivered a stinging slap against her bald lips. She twisted left and right, writhing in protest and pleasure, but I held her hands out of my way. I wouldn’t let Yvonne finger herself.

I reduced her to incomprehensible babble with a few touches. At some point, she pleaded, “Please, Sir, please.”

I lowered Yvonne to the blanket and directed my pet to lie on her back. She did it readily without a hint of apprehension. Sliding my index over her slick labia, I appreciated her recent close shave and the silky texture beneath my touch. She’d shaved while I was fetching the delivery. I knew it.

Yvonne wanted this. She was
mine
.

“Feels so good,” she groaned.

“That’s right, baby… fuck, you’re so wet.” My middle digit pressed into her pussy. Yvonne practically purred. Her back arched, raising from the blankets beneath us. I kissed along her body and paused to scrape her pebbled nipple with my teeth. That elicited the desired response - a cry and the tightening of her fingers within my hair. She liked it.

I took particular care to avoid contact with her nipples again. Now that I knew what she liked, I knew what to avoid. She had to want me to give it to her, had to show me she craved it again. My kisses traced her collarbone and my teeth scraped her ear. I abandoned my activities below her waist, and Yvonne raised her hips to follow my retreating fingers.

Her responsive display surpassed the night we fooled around on the couch.

“No, no, no…” she whined.

In the wake of my retreating hands she slid her own into place. I slapped her fingers away from her nipple and pressed her wrist to the floor to restrain her. She squirmed and writhed.

“Jake, please…”

“Please what?” I asked darkly, forcing her to speak the words.

“I want… I want…”

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want… to come so bad. I never…”

Did she even remember the last time she came for a man who wasn’t me? I lowered between her thighs and sealed my lips to her pussy, spreading her folds with a teasing lap of my tongue. I found her clit and lashed my tongue against the sensitive bundle, coaxing a shudder from her body.

Then I withdrew again to shed my jeans and boxers. I kicked both aside.

“Tell me what you want,” I snarled at her. My cock ached, so swollen and hard I fondled it with the fingers wet with her juices. Resting on my knees above her again, I stroked off slowly and allowed her to watch. Try as she might to look away, her eyes always returned to my dick.

“Make me come, please!” she sobbed. “I
need
you!” She hid her face beneath her forearm, ashamed. Her beautiful breasts quivered, plump and rosy nipples begging for my touch.

“Do you want my cock inside you?”

“Yes!” Yvonne cried.

She voiced my fondest wish. What I wanted to hear more than anything. My cock flexed in anticipation and my heart raced. “Ride me then. I want you to earn the privilege to come on my cock.”

Yvonne didn’t delay. Once I was on my back, she quickly squirmed atop me and straddled my hips. Her long, beautiful and firm thighs framed my body as her bared snatch lowered toward my erection. She took my cock in one hand and angled it toward her wet slit. Yvonne was as much of a snug fit now as she was the first night, inviting and wet, but oh so tight. Her heated embrace drew an involuntary moan from me, blended with her relieved cry. We fit perfectly.

“Fuck, you feel better than I dreamed,” I groaned. She braced her weight against my chest with both palms spread over my pecs. She didn’t move, so full of me that she needed time to adjust.

I wanted to take her slowly and sensually, I wanted to lead her down a path of pleasure so great that she couldn’t bear the thought of taking any cock but mine. I craved slow love making, but we didn’t have a chance of that once she undulated her hips and rose. I couldn’t bear the feeling of the cool air against my glistening cock; I needed her to surround me again. A swift upward thrust of my hips buried every inch anew when she descended. Yvonne’s fingers clawed against my chest.