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Authors: Sindra van Yssel

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BOOK: OnLocation
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Then she heard Kyle on the stairs.
At least I have time
for the buttons.
Her hand was still on one when he arrived, and she knew
he’d caught her in the act from the way he smirked and raised his eyebrows.

Well, hopefully he thinks it’s sexy.

He was gorgeous. His hair was still wet—he’d probably been
in the shower. His jeans were tight and his T-shirt could have been painted on.
He didn’t look as though he’d spent one moment considering what to wear, and
yet he looked perfect. She soon forgot about her button as she watched him walk
over and sit down across from her.

He looked at her eyes, not at her cleavage. She couldn’t
tear her gaze away from him. He traced a line down her neck with his finger,
then continued down to her chest. Finally he undid another button. Cool air
caressed her breasts. Every place else got a lot warmer. She gulped some orange
juice.

“Good morning, Teresa. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. Why did you get me up?”

“Good question. Here’s one of mine. Have you been doing any
digging at the cove on the other side of the island?”

She shook her head.

“Does Gallagher have any reason to do any?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Curious.”

“Why? And did you sleep well?”

“No. I almost never do. My friends learn not to ask.”

“Why?” she asked, unable to let that go.

“Because they get tired of hearing the honest answer.”

“Maybe you’d sleep better with someone warm in your bed.”

“What are you doing today?” He touched her again where his
finger had left off the time before, and continued down. He couldn’t touch skin
all the way, because her bra was in the way, but he made it to the next button.
Somehow having her bra showing was more embarrassing than revealing deep
cleavage. He’d seen her naked. She didn’t think he’d seen her quite so
disheveled, although she wasn’t sure what she looked like after they’d made love.

She remembered Gallagher’s suggestion that she show him what
she did. “My job is to go around the island some more, trying to see what spots
would look good in the movie, and how the camera has to be lined up to avoid
showing things that don’t belong, like the house. Or that shed at the cove. Is
there any chance it could be moved, or is it a permanent structure? Of course
the movie would pay to have it put back up.”

He scowled briefly and then shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose it
could be redone. It’s on a concrete block, but you could cover the block over
with sand during the shoot.”

“Or pitch Odysseus’ tent on it.”

He chuckled.

“There’s another good sandy place on the east side of the
island. It’s uncovered at low tide, but I’m not sure about high tide and I
don’t think there’s any clear path to it.” Of course she could wait for the
right moment, but this was an ideal opportunity to get some time with Kyle that
wasn’t in bed. “Do you think you could take me to it in a boat and let me get
some pictures? And maybe tell me what it’s like when the tide is higher?”

Kyle smiled. “Yeah, I could do that.” He leaned forward and
looked in her cereal bowl. She scooped the last spoonful into her mouth. “Ready
to go?”

“Sure.” She picked up her empty bowl and glass and put them
in the dishwasher. He followed with the carton and bottle, taking them to the
fridge. Without thinking about it she rebuttoned two buttons on her shirt, and
then looked at him hoping he didn’t notice, expecting a scowl.

Instead, he grinned at her.
That’s probably worse.

“My butt still hurts,” she said. “Honest. Please don’t spank
me.”

“Oh, I won’t. Close your eyes.”

Uh-oh. Her heart skipped a beat. Reluctantly she closed
them. She was scared of what he might do. At the same time, the thought of
being under his control aroused her, making her breasts tingle and her pussy
moisten.

When she heard a drawer open she had to fight not to open
her eyes to see what was going on. He tugged at her shirt.
Snip.
Tug.
Snip.
Tug.
Snip.

“Put out your hand.”

She put out her hand, palm upward. The last time she’d been
asked to close her eyes and put out her hand like that had been in grade school,
and it had not been a pleasant experience. So she was relieved when what was
put in her hand wasn’t wet and wasn’t slimy. It was featherlight.

“Open.”

She opened her eyes and looked in her hand. Three
pearl-white buttons nestled there.

“There’s a sewing kit in this drawer,” he said, putting back
a sharp pair of scissors and closing the drawer, “if you want them back on
before you go. But for now, they stay off.” He reached over and unbuttoned
another button. “Let’s see if you can keep this button. It stays as long as you
don’t try to use it.”

She might as well not have been wearing a shirt at his
point, as far as she was concerned. She looked down and saw that most of her
pale-blue bra was uncovered. “Not exactly an elegant look,” she said.

“Might be better without the bra,” he agreed. “Or without
the shirt. Take care of one of those and meet me at the boat.” He turned
without waiting for her to acknowledge and walked away.

I’m going to have to learn not to complain around him. It
never quite ends up working the way I intend.
She supposed he’d addressed
her complaint. It wasn’t about the skin she left uncovered—on the boat she’d be
away from Gallagher’s eyes except at a distance, and if she kept the bra on
she’d be as covered as she would be in a swimsuit. Kyle had seen it all and she
didn’t mind him seeing it all again. What she had really been saying was that
she wanted control back. He was telling her it wasn’t going to happen.

She took her time heading for the boat. Did she even want
that control or was she acting reflexively? She knew the answer. By the time
she got to the small boat, he was sitting in the pilot’s seat, waiting for her,
his shirt stripped off and replaced with a bright-orange life vest. He looked
up and started to speak. “You haven’t—”

She knelt on the dock, ignoring the hardness of the wood
against her knees. “Please, Sir,” she interrupted. “Would you decide please, if
I am to wear the shirt, the bra or neither?”

His eyes widened but she saw the twinkle of a smile in them.
“Take both off and hand them to me.”

She knew there was a chance he’d say that. She unbuttoned
the last two buttons of the shirt and unhooked her bra. She handed both to him.

He put out a hand to help her into the boat and she sat down
next to him. Even from a distance, it would be obvious she wasn’t wearing
anything. Gallagher would be talking about her for the rest of his life. She
shrugged. Movie people were pretty open-minded and there was always a wilder
story to tell.

He pulled a bottle of sunblock from under the seat and
rubbed it all over her skin. His slick hands wandered over her breasts and back
with seemingly equal interest, careful to cover every inch of her. Her nipples
hardened against his palm, aroused by his touch and the way the seat stung her
bottom. She was getting turned-on again. She’d never thought about sex so much
before.

To her disappointment, he stopped. To her surprise, he
pulled a life vest over her head and strapped it on. She ought to be happy she
was decent again, but she wasn’t.

“You’re a good girl,” he said.

That
made her happy. As he started the engine, she
wondered why that meant so much to her coming from him when she’d happily
rebuke any of a number of men for saying the same thing to her.

He piloted the boat to just off the stretch she was talking
about and killed the engine. Moving, the little craft felt very stable, but as
it slowed down it seemed considerably more wobbly and she decided against her
original plan of standing up in the boat to take pictures.

She snapped the first few seated and focused on her job
before she glanced over at him. He was watching her with interest but he looked
worn out. He wasn’t kidding about not sleeping well, she realized. She would
have thought he’d have been as exhausted by their play the night before as she
was, without the challenge of finding a side to sleep on that hadn’t been
smacked. He should have slept like a baby. Why didn’t he?

“So which part of
The Odyssey
is supposed to take
place on Submission Island, exactly? I’ve been trying to imagine a one-eyed
giant wandering about the place and it doesn’t fit, and besides, there’s no
cave on the island. Is this the part with Circe?”

She shook her head. “The shipwreck, toward the end. I think
they are finishing butchering the Circe story as we speak on an island off the
coast of Colombia. Stegner loves the place for some reason. I found two better
places and he settled on that one anyway. Maybe because it was close to the
cave where they did the Cyclops, but I wasn’t involved in the decision at all.”

“Is the penteconter there?”

“No, I think it’s on its way here already.”

Kyle nodded. “I don’t remember much about the shipwreck.”

“The gods punish Odysseus’ crew for eating some sacred
cows—literal sacred cows—and wreck his ship, killing all the crew. Odysseus
ends up on an island with a goddess named Calypso. So what we need is a place
to run a ship aground, basically. We can dummy up a jagged rock and then break
the ship up with no one on it and film people floundering in the water—”

“Getting stung by jellyfish.”

She nodded. “See, it’s crazy! I’ve already told Stegner
he’ll need a medical team standing by, although I think he believes he can use
nets to reduce the problem. But it is a beautiful island, and that’s what
Stegner does. Lovely sets and lots of skin, some pretension to art and easy on
the plot. The attraction of
The Odyssey
is that Odysseus ends up
sleeping with half the women of the Mediterranean. After the shipwreck, there
will be scenes of Calypso and Odysseus making love. My understanding is that
the starlet playing Calypso will be topless the entire time.”

Kyle smiled. “That’s how I prefer my goddesses, but alas, a
life vest was more practical.”

“Calypso and Odysseus were alone on the island.”

“You could—” He stopped.

“I could what?”

“Never mind. It was a silly idea. Let’s enjoy what we have
now.”

She sighed and took some more photographs because it was
easier than looking at him. Had he been about to invite her to stay, or come
again sometime?

“So you’re thinking shipwreck here and lovemaking at the
cove on the far side of the jungle?”

“And possibly a naked chase down the path. But that would be
Stegner’s decision, I just offer suggestions and try to figure out the right
places to do things. I’ll size up both places for the shipwreck and pretty much
every place you can fit two bodies for the rest. You have beautiful orchids
here. I imagine Stegner will want to get them in somehow.”

Kyle idled the engine again and brought it to a low purr.

“What’s up?”

“You need more camera angles, right?”

She smiled. “Well, yes.”

“You focus on your work and I’ll pilot the boat. And when
you think you have enough, let me know and we’ll see how this spot works for
lovemaking.”

“Oh! But Gallagher…”

“Is going to get here how? We’ve got the boat, the tide’s
coming in, and he’s not going to hack through the jungle. We may be out in the
middle of nowhere, love, but we have plenty of privacy. I have a toy in my
pocket and I want to see how you react to it.”

She turned back to look at the landing spot and started taking
pictures again. Did he expect her to concentrate after that comment? It was
hard enough sitting down on the hard seat of the boat. Her bottom felt
deliciously warm and tingly and her pussy was wet. His hint of toys and sex
made her squirm.

She clicked the camera a few times on automatic pilot,
trying to remember the script from the movie. Maybe the ship could get wrecked
on the mangrove trees. Stegner would probably do something with CGI so it
didn’t matter. In a few years he’d probably be filming beach scenes in Montana
or someplace, and everything would be even less real than the starlets’ boobs.

That made her think of Stella Munro, the
Playboy
model making her acting debut in the role of Calypso. She would be gone when
Stella arrived on the island, and she had no particular reason to think that
Stella would make a play for Kyle. And it wasn’t as if she had a claim. But the
idea of Stella on the island with him still twisted a knot in her gut.

Enjoy what we have now.
It was good advice. She kept
taking pictures until it made no sense to take any more.

“Done, Sir.”

Chapter Seven

 

Teresa watched as Kyle steered the boat to shore. He killed
the engine and let it glide in. He obviously knew the place to do it without
wrecking the boat. He jumped out and splashed to shore, quickly tying a line to
a mangrove. She could see a worn line on the tree where rope had been tied
before. Maybe he’d taken other dates here. There was no point in speculating.

He scanned the water and waded back to the boat to help her
out. He carried her back to the beach, taking all the risk of stings on himself
and even keeping her clothes reasonably dry.
Not what I would have expected
of a sadist.
But she had no doubt that was what he was. He enjoyed giving
her pain. He was smiling. Whatever he had in his pocket, she expected it to
hurt.

Worse, she wanted it to. She’d always thought sex was a nice
enough way to pass the time, but she didn’t crave it the way she did now. Not
just any sex. Rough sex. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since the last
time and already she wanted it again.

He got her to dry sand and took the life vest off her. The
cool air brushed against her bare breasts, making her nipples harden, but it
wasn’t exactly cold. She’d always thought of tropical islands as being hot,
particularly when she saw pictures of topless natives, but it wasn’t hot
either. It had been hot in the boat, with the naked sun beating down, but here
the edge of the forest provided enough shade.

“Strip.” His sudden sharp command cut through her reverie.
She locked gazes with him for a moment and then lowered hers.

“Yes Sir,” she said softly. He obviously expected to be
obeyed without argument. Her instincts made her want to challenge him, but
every time she made the decision to obey she felt as if weight had been taken
off her shoulders. She pulled open the snap on her jeans and pulled down the
zipper. She toed off her sandals. Then she shimmied out of her jeans and
panties. As she did so, he shucked his own life vest and his shirt, and her
pulse raced at the sight of his six-pack abs and hard chest. Beauty was more
than skin-deep, but lovely skin didn’t hurt her desire.

His put one arm around her and pushed his other hand between
her legs. “You’re wet,” he told her.

She blushed.

“I love that you get aroused so easily.”

I’ve never gotten aroused easily.
But she couldn’t
deny the evidence either. She shifted her feet, parting her legs wider for him.
But rather than pushing his fingers into her, he pulled his hand back.

“Kneel here, Teresa.”

She went to her knees. Every time she obeyed a direction, it
became easier. More automatic. It was scary in a way, but she didn’t feel she
was losing herself. Instead, it was as if she was finding out who she’d been
all along. She tried not to think about whether it was possible to be herself
without Kyle or someone like him. There weren’t very many people like him.
Looking straight ahead, she saw that his zipper was right in front of her,
level with her lips. She wanted to please him. To be ordered to please him. She
licked her lips and then looked up at him and licked them again, for show this
time. His eyes widened. She tried not to look smug at his reaction.

He unzipped and pushed his pants down an inch. His cock fell
toward her, half hard and straightening as she watched. She leaned forward,
wanting to gobble him up and feel him harden the rest of the way in her mouth
but not sure if she should wait to be told. He lifted his cock and brushed her
lips with the tip. That was close enough to an order. She kissed it and then
took it inside, savoring the taste of him. Wanting to take him deep, she had to
fight back a moment of panic as he neared the back of her throat.

He ran his hand through her hair. Part of her wanted to pull
back, get some oxygen and stop from gagging. And yet if he pushed her head and
gave her no choice—she wanted that too. Her eyes watered. She froze.

“Easy, girl, breathe. Through your nose.”

She took a few deep breaths and that helped her relax. She
didn’t have to pull back. She couldn’t take him all in but she could at least
take some. Lifting her hand toward him, she raised her eyebrows in an attempt
to ask the question her mouth was too full to ask.

He smiled. “Yes, you may.”

She wrapped her fist around his shaft so that the side of
her finger touched her lip, marking the spot where she could go. Maybe with
practice she could take more. She slid back, but to create friction, not to get
relief. Then she pressed her tongue firmly against his underside and moved
forward, letting him stretch her lips. He was totally hard now.
I did that.
She pulled back again, and this time he pushed her forward, his hand gentle but
firm on the back of her head. She tightened her fist slightly but didn’t panic.
She was safe, and she loved the feel of him pushing her, controlling her.

“This wasn’t in my plan,” he said. “But it means we’ll be
here longer. I’ll still do everything I intended. And it’s too good to pass up.
You’re a wonderful cocksucker, Teresa.”

She blushed and swelled with pride.
Is it the sort of
thing one takes pride in? I do. At least right now and right here.
She
moved her fist closer to the base of his cock. She couldn’t take much more of
him and hold it, but as long as she knew she was pulling right back, she’d be
okay. But the hand against the back of her head let her know she was living
dangerously. She didn’t have control of when she got to pull back. That excited
her too.

His cock throbbed against her tongue as he pushed her
faster. She wouldn’t have a choice about taking his load with his hand there
either. She couldn’t pull back the moment he came. However he tasted she’d have
to deal with it. But not having a choice felt so freeing. He was close. His breathing
was ragged. She felt his hands tighten on her head.

Suddenly he flooded her mouth. It missed her tongue and
landed on the back of her throat. She pulled back as the spurt triggered her
gag reflex, but she couldn’t. He held her tight—not quite all the way down. Her
nose ached from the sudden scent and she felt his come was going to go right up
it if she didn’t do something. Instinctively she swallowed and the warm
thickness trickled down. Some reached her tongue and rounded out the taste of
him, salty and hot. She swallowed more as he kept coming, and somehow the pride
came back.
Wonderful cocksucker.
She could do this. She swallowed some
more. His hands relaxed but she didn’t feel a need to pull back anymore.

“Wow,” he said and she glowed.
I did it. But without his
hands, I would have pulled back. I can do things with his help that I can’t do
with anyone else.
She didn’t want to think about the fact that it would all
be over in two more days.

He pulled out and knelt on the sand next to her, his knees
between her legs. Then he kissed her. No man had ever kissed her after a
blowjob before. She smiled against his lips impishly and then kissed him
deeply, wanting to see if he’d pull back from his own taste. He kissed her back
with ferocity, holding her head in place again. When he let go, her lips felt
bruised. She bet his did too.

Seems I like a little pain.
But it didn’t feel like a
hurt. It made her feel alive.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out something silver
before closing it again in his fist.

“Arch your back, love. Chest out.”

Her breasts tingled as she followed directions. He reached
for a nipple with his empty hand, tracing a finger around it. It hardened in
response. His fingers closed around it and squeezed. His gaze locked with hers.
She felt he could see right through her. She took a breath and nodded. He
squeezed harder, until it stung. Both peaks tightened.

Now he pulled at the other as well, squeezing and
stretching, using two fingers while concealing whatever was in his other hand.
He was tugging on a line that led straight to her pussy, flooding it and making
her clit ache for a touch. She squeaked in pain and then bit it off, hoping it
wouldn’t make him slow down or stop. She dropped her gaze for a moment. His
cock was hardening again. Whether it was from what he was doing or what he was
about to do with whatever was in his hand, she didn’t know, but that didn’t
matter. “Please don’t stop, Sir.” The desire had become more fervent now that
she knew that what he was doing was turning them both on.

He let go of one nipple and she looked up at him, unable to
resist a frown.

“Don’t worry, love. Watch.”

She looked down at her breast and saw what was in his hand
now. Two complicated-looking clamps attached to a chain. He squeezed one,
causing it to open, and positioned it over her nipple.

“This is going to hurt,” he said.

“Please, Sir.”

He let it close slowly. It squeezed around her hard peak
gently at first, gradually increasing until it was tighter than his fingers had
ever been. And he still hadn’t let go. Her eyes widened.

“You can take this,” he told her.

“Yes Sir.” She wasn’t sure.

“For me.”

She managed a smile. “For you, Sir.”

He let go and she shrieked. It smarted more than she thought
it possibly could and she wanted to pull it off. But she didn’t, and slowly the
sting started to soften slightly to an intense ache.

“Now for number two.”

“I don’t know how long I can take this, Sir.”

“You won’t decide that. I will.”

Unless I say pineapple.
But she knew she wasn’t going
to. She was too turned-on to let the scene stop. The clamp hurt, but it fed her
arousal too. It was hard not to fidget because she wanted to be touched so
badly, but there was nothing to rub against anyway. And keeping her pussy away
from the sand seemed like a very good idea.

Taking the same time with the other clamp, he let it close
slowly.

“Get it over with,” she said, biting her lip.

He loosened it instead. “Excuse me?”

“Um, would you please just let it go, Sir?”

He shrugged. “As you wish.” He did. She screamed as
white-hot pain shot from her nipple, disorienting every other sense, blotting
out even the aches in her pussy and the pain in other breast. She barely felt
the hand he placed on her shoulder, or the other one on her thigh. Her legs
closed around his hand.

“Next time perhaps you’ll trust me to do it my way. Lesson
learned?”

A tear ran down her face.
That really hurts.
“Yes
Sir.”

He brushed the tear away. “Now then. Legs apart, as I’ve
showed you.”

She looked down and saw them tightly closed. Aware of his
gaze on her pussy, she opened them as far as she could. She kept going until
her thighs hurt, letting that pain distract her from the pain in her breasts.

Sliding his fingers along her pussy, he gave her clit some
much-needed and sadly brief attention before sliding two fingers inside her.
“You’re even wetter than you were before. Why is that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Every breath she took,
every rise and fall of her chest, reminded her of the tug on her breasts.

“Do you enjoy giving blowjobs that much?”

She blushed. “I did like it, Sir. It
did
turn me on.”
She knew that wasn’t the entire answer though.

“Is that all?”

Dammit.
“No Sir.”

He slid his fingers back, teasing her clit again before
plunging them back inside. “What else, Teresa?”

Somehow his using her name seemed almost too intimate.
Especially when
she
had to call
him
Sir. But she bit that back.
Maybe it was intended to be. He knew this dance better than she did. “Your
hands on my breasts, Sir.”

He smiled. “My hands are free now. Not on your breasts.”

“No Sir.” The clamps were stinging less, aching more. She
wasn’t sure anymore whether she wanted less or more. She looked down and saw
the chain dangling between them. It was kind of pretty, actually. She arched
her back more, trying to make her breasts sit up better.

“Do the clamps make you wetter, Teresa?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Having my hands free has its advantages.” He thrust his
fingers inside her, and this time turned his hand so that his thumb could move
on her clit at the same time. Somehow it made her nipples hurt less. Squirming,
she pressed herself into his thumb. Pressure was building inside her core,
aching for release. And the pain made her feel the way the crop had the night
before, as if she were floating.

“Good girl. There’s nothing wrong with getting turned-on by
pain. It’s a wonderful gift. And it arouses me that you do.”

She took a peek. Yep, still very hard.

“I could get you off with just my fingers right now,
couldn’t I?”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“If you can take more pain for me, I’ll fuck you instead.”

It seemed all wrong as a proposition. He could bring her off
right now, or he’d delay it, get pleasure for himself—and she was supposed to
take more pain to make that happen? She hesitated to answer only because what
she wanted made no sense to her. “Yes, please. I can take more pain for you.”

He didn’t stop moving his fingers, but his thumb slowed on
her clit. She hadn’t realized how close she’d been to coming, but now she knew
she’d been right on the edge—and he was keeping her there.

With his other hand he held the chain that ran between her
breasts. “If I pull on this the clamps will tighten. That’s how they’re
designed.”

Tighter? Yikes.
She braced herself.

“But I’m not going to pull on it.”

“You’re not? Sir?”
Am I disappointed?

“Nope. I’m more sadistic than that.”

Uh-oh.

He smiled. “You’re going to do the pulling. I’m going to
hold this chain taut right here. And all you have to do is lean back.”

She stared at him, thinking there was no way she could do
that. If he did it to her, sure. But his eyes were bright and full of lust. She
remembered how hard his cock was. Was it aching the way her pussy ached? He
wanted this.

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