Darkest Fantasies (10 page)

'Right,' said
the female. 'Now you can get all the exercise you need. Work some
of that flab off.'

'I will not!'
he howled indignantly. 'Let me out of this thing!'

'The fun is
just starting,' she said. 'Ready? Now, bend your knees, and
jump.'

He gritted his
teeth and stayed still. There was a faint whistle, and he screeched
with shock as something cut around his thighs. His legs flexed and
he bounced away from the pain. 'Ow! You hit me, you bitch!'

'Now
bounce!'

'I will not...
eeaagh!'

Suddenly he
stopped bouncing. He had been wound up so that his feet were off
the floor, and he realised there must be something attaching his
ankles to the floor, for his powers of movement were suddenly
totally constricted. 'What now?' he said angrily, twisting and
tugging against the bonds.

'You're making
much too much noise,' she said, efficiently popping a bar between
his teeth as he opened his mouth to complain. 'It's affecting my
concentration. I will enjoy this so much more if you shut up.'

Kevin's eyes
nearly popped out with anger as the straps of the gag were
tightened under his chin and around his head. It didn't actually
stop the noise, but it certainly stopped his words from being
comprehensible. Even though, from the vitriolic garble, one could
probably guess the content.

Then he was
lowered back onto his feet.

His first hint
of what was to come was a faint whistle followed by a loud smack as
the thin leather hit his bare legs. Kevin squealed, danced, bounced
and gyrated on the end of the rubber spring as the unknown female
plastered his bound body with weals. He screamed wordless abuse as
his body flexed and bounded away from the sting of the lash. But he
could neither see where they were coming from nor avoid the
strokes. He thought for a few moments that he must be in hell.
Never had he experienced such total helplessness.

When she
stopped he was panting hard. It took him a moment to register the
fact, and he stood there, still tautly waiting for further
punishment, wondering if this cessation was some ruse. His leather
cage was wound up taut. He froze on tiptoe. What was she going to
do next?

Then she began
to writhe around his body in a sexual frenzy. He felt bare breasts
against his buttocks as she knelt behind him, and her hands began
to tease and play with his cock. His skin, sensitive from the
lashing, crawled beneath her fingers. He groaned with the combined
rasping pain and eroticism of her now-gentle touch.

Unable to
escape, he stood there while her hands wreaked deadly work upon his
cock and her tongue licked up his sore back, evoking conflicting
signals of pain and longing. He moaned through the gag, but as his
cock began to lurch into rigidity, and his tightly bound legs
constricted his tightening balls, his whole body became a mass of
eroticism, every inch of flesh sensitised and eager for the touch
of this woman. Not any woman, but this woman. This siren. This
witch.

She twisted
his cocooned body around, and he moaned and thrust himself at her,
but she did not relieve the ache between his legs. Her fingers and
tongue carried on smoothing away at all parts of him. Then she was
behind him again, her arms wrapped around his bound ones, and she
was twirling his nipples between finger and thumb. Blood pulsed
into his cock until he thought it would explode. Then she was
touching him there again... and something was passed around the
base of his erection and tightened. The constriction was painfully,
making him groan with unexpected pleasure.

A finger then
slid between his clamped buttocks and began to rub against his
anus. Jolts of pleasure were firing from the core of his being into
every nerve in his body. It couldn't get any more tense, any more
beautifully sexual, he thought.

Her finger
began to penetrate him.

He gasped and
writhed in the exquisite pleasure of that invasion as her finger
went in and out, greasing, enlarging, softening his clenched
muscle. Then something pushed against him, which was not her
finger. A cry was wrenched from between his bound jaws as he
stretched and stretched to accommodate something alien in that most
private of places. Dear God, what was she doing to him?

A deft turn of
her wrist and vibrations began to permeate his body from within;
alien, strange, and wonderful pulses that reached out towards his
sexual organs. His muscles spasmed with shocked delight.

He was moaning
deep in his throat, hanging helplessly in the spider's cocoon, and
once more she stepped back and began to whip him. His mind
descended deep into the sexual core of his being. Now every lash of
the whip, every flinch of his body was an erotic torment doubled by
the constrictions which bound his nether regions. He moaned, but
not in dismay, for he had no idea that he had moaned. His libido
engulfed his awareness until a chance flick of the whip kissed the
tip of his penis. With the force of an explosion he erupted on to
the floor.

There was
silence.

And in that
silence he gradually awoke to an awareness of what he had just been
through, and the awful comprehension that he had been force-fed
with the most wonderful, mind-bending experience he had ever had in
his life. He had been injected with a mind-dependency drug and he
knew he wanted it again and again and again and again.

Within his
mask and behind his gag he wept for Esther. He had never before
known the exquisite sexuality of pain, and knew that she could
never satisfy him again with her innocent, trusting dependence.

When the
dominatrix came in later and lay him back down upon the bed, he was
almost compliant, having attained a kind of desperate acceptance of
her domination over him.

Back upstairs,
Esther hummed happily as she ironed. A strange warmth kept invading
her tummy and muscling its way between her legs. She felt herself
moisten there. Very carefully she unplugged the iron, folded up the
board and put it away, and made her way to their empty bedroom. She
danced a small dance as she threw off her clothes, swirling them
around her head and throwing them in abandonment all over the
bedroom. She looked in the mirror, made a moue of her lips and
pushed her breasts together with her hands, then she threw herself
down onto the bed and closed her eyes. Kevin tied up, at her mercy.
Pleasurable spasms flashed through her aroused body. Kevin alone in
a soundproofed garage. She listened. Could she hear anything?
No.

She lay back
and opened her legs and began to rub a forefinger gently up and
down between them. She was already slick with need. Her smile
stretched into a gasp. Her legs flailed over the bed. Blood pulsed
through her breasts. Her finger moved faster and faster. Her breath
began to shorten. Then it became a gasp. It was coming! Ah! A
single, fleeting, blindingly beautiful moment when something
exploded deep inside her sex, ran like electricity to her
fingertips and toes. A slow pulse, a rippling outwards. She counted
with held breath, stilled finger pressing on the spot...

She lay for a
moment revelling in the spread of warmth that lingered from the
orgasm, and her breathing began to slow. She thought of Kevin,
lying alone in darkness, unable to touch himself. A slow smile
dawned. A feline smile. She yawned, stretched, spread her limbs
over his side of the bed, and dropped instantly into a sound
sleep.

In the morning
she showered, dressed, and went out.

'Hello
darlin', where's hubby today?' the chap at the petrol station
asked, taking her credit card. The hubby usually filled the car
without fail at seven on a Monday, and it was now Wednesday.

She assessed
him with new eyes. He was not too bright, but was attractive in a
sexual kind of way, and for some reason his familiarity did not
offend her as it had in the past. Instead, she returned his open
appraisal with one of her own. It was kind of fun looking at
people, and imagining them strapped up in Madam's room. She could
take that superior expression off his face in a single stroke. The
thought made her smile.

'Kevin's a bit
indisposed today,' she said, insinuating all sorts of suggestions
into the soft words. 'But I'm going to look after him, and make him
better.'

The garage
attendant's eyes widened as he clearly thought he'd like to have
her making him better. Esther smiled inwardly at his response. Oh
yes, she was going to make him much, much better. She drove on into
town to do some shopping without Kevin's overshadowing presence
dictating what she bought. She got herself a new pair of jeans.
Tight ones. She kept them on, wearing them around the town with
enjoyment, wiggling her hips. Someone wolf-whistled, and though she
knew better than to turn round and search the crowd for that quick
grin which would have given him away, she knew it was for her, and
it felt good.

Then she went
and had her hair cut in a ragged, fuzzy blonde halo.

She bought
herself a little red lacy top - cheap and flirty - and a pair of
heeled shoes in the same colour.

Then she sat
at a table outside a cafe, bought herself a cup of coffee and a big
sticky bun, and ogled the men who were ogling her.

'Kevin?'
Esther shook him. 'Kevin, wake up. You'll be late for work.'

Kevin sat up
in sudden shock. It took a moment to register the fact that he was
in his own room, in his own bed, and Esther was staring at him,
concern in her eyes. 'What have you done to your lovely hair?' he
demanded, dazed, not knowing what else to say.

Esther hid her
amusement behind brows raised with apparent sarcasm. 'You don't
recall? I'm not surprised, but last night it came out as more of a
compliment. You told me it looked really sexy.'

'I said that?'
He had always liked her long hair, it was very feminine, he
thought. She looked older, somehow, with her hair short. Less -
what was it? - that was it! Less naive. But as she carried on his
heartbeat increased in panic.

'That wasn't
all you said. I thought you'd had a bit too much to drink when you
came home in a taxi, but I was still a bit surprised that the poor
man had to help you up to the front door. You were babbling
nonsense, Kevin. I was most embarrassed, it's not like you at
all.'

'What was I
saying?' Kevin asked warily.

'I couldn't
make it out. Something about bonds - equity bonds, I think - oh,
yes, and something about whipping someone into shape. Perhaps you
should stay home today, you really don't seem at all like
yourself.'

'Today? What
day is today?'

'Wednesday, of
course.'

'Wednesday?'
Had he only been away three nights? It seemed like a week. He was
utterly confused. So, he had come back by taxi last night, he
thought he vaguely recalled as much, but why had the cow let him
go? He pressed fingers to his temples and Esther became instantly
contrite, her voice soothing, her hand testing his forehead for
temperature.

'Oh, poor
Kevin, I'm being a real nag. You're not feeling very well at all,
are you? Perhaps you've got a dose of food poisoning from something
you ate at the hotel. You really don't seem like your usual self. I
do think you should stay at home today. Let me call you in sick,
tell them that they're pushing you too hard. It's not acceptable,
the amount of meetings you have to go to these days.'

'Oh, no,' he
said frantically. 'I'd better go in. Must have a lot of work to
catch up on. I'll be all right. I could do with a cup of tea,
though, honey.'

After she had
gone downstairs he looked at his wrists, his arms, his legs, but
there was not the hint of a mark to be seen. He scratched his hands
through his hair, stretched, and yawned. Had he been dreaming? But
in spite of the fact that he had no marks, he ached in places he
shouldn't be aching. Someone really had had him trussed up in a
soundproofed room. But if that was so, what had happened to her
assertion that she would keep him forever? Had she had a change of
heart? Somehow that didn't fit with the character.

He scrabbled
out of bed and stood for a while under the shower letting the hot
water run over his body, and gradually his experience began to
become less real. After a while he gave a doubtful laugh; Christ,
what an experience. It hadn't been all bad, at that. Shame he
didn't dare tell anyone about it.

Esther smiled
to herself as she saw her husband off for the day. He would be so
confused, and would probably simply feign illness because he had no
rational explanation of his absence. When she guessed he would also
feel guilty and do his utmost to prevent her from phoning in to
work with her irritation, she was right. On arrival home that
evening he came armed with a bunch of flowers.

He was also
comfortingly attentive, as though trying to prove to himself that
he had done his wife no injustice, and for the first time she saw
behind the façade. It made her think back on all the other times he
had come home with boxes of chocolates or flowers. The expression
'guilt payments' came strongly to mind. Goodness, how many women
had he been with, the bastard? She also wondered how long this
present bout of loyalty would last.

That over
with, as far as Kevin was concerned, everything was back to normal,
and that night he informed Esther, 'We have to attend one of those
company socials on Saturday evening. The chairman only told me
today. Apparently we're trying to sweet-talk a new bank into going
along with our latest project in the city. He's asked for you to be
there. I'm really sorry, I know you find these functions a bit of a
bore, but it's important to my career.'

Esther had
been looking forward to the weekend herself. She'd had her own
plans all worked out. Though he didn't realise it, they included
Kevin. Her disappointment showed. 'Must we?'