She expelled a deep breath. "It's not exactly comfortable, but it's better, Sir."
"Bon. You are a small woman, Elizabeth, with a small anal passage. Mon Dieu, it is such a tight hole! But this toy is of a full size and my cock is not much larger. You will accustom yourself to this, and later today, when I take your sweet ass, you will be prepared for it, no?"
Elizabeth struggled not to giggle, but gave in with a snort. This entire situation just got crazier and crazier. A virtual stranger was gearing up to butt fuck her and she, to the best of her ability, was helping him to do it.
Sir chuckled and stroked and patted her behind fondly. "All is well. You have endured much from me this day, have you not? But you have enjoyed yourself, too. Yet I am not finished, for I see you here on my lap, with this plug in your ass and I want more."
With these words Elizabeth stiffened. Uh oh.
"Mon cher," he said in a compelling voice. "I want to spank you now, with my hand. Are you willing to take it? Because I want to hurt you, I want to enjoy your reaction. It will please me very much. But I will only do it if you say you are willing."
She took a deep breath, and reflected that the more she gave this man, the more he wanted. Good lord. Not again. What was this love hate thing she had going with pain? Sir had hurt her with that damn chocolate, not to mention the riding crop. Even the thought of that caused a throbbing visceral awareness to her clit. Yet pain increased her pleasure… afterwards. Pain. Elizabeth sure as hell didn't like it…but, Sir did. And because he did – she did.
Two big realizations of what turned her on pierced her awareness. One: constraint may not always be necessary for orgasm, but when she was bound orgasm came easily and, two: somewhere in her psyche and unable to be expunged was a bone deep need to please. No, not just to please, but to cause pleasure for her sexual partner. Elizabeth had somehow climaxed, just because Sir had wanted it – despite no physical touch of her clit, breasts or pussy. Sir had made her do that on purpose, to prove to her that she could. And how had she been able to do it? She who had been having trouble climaxing with the man she loved?
She had done it to please Sir, and because he commanded it. A thrill of sensual excitement trilled through her just at the thought of that forceful command. "Yes, mon cher. You cunt is wet, you flood this chair. Come for me, I want to see it. Come. Do it! Now. For me."
She sighed. The man had an agenda of his own, but she knew he was also trying to help her. To make her discover who she really was sexually. Mad abducting kidnapper or not, she owed him. And still it was as if his pleasure was hers. Causing him to experience such bliss was even more satisfying to her than receiving such ecstasy. Sir had said that the desire to please was in her nature. She recalled his quote, "Life's most obvious truths are the hardest to see but once you've burned everything down to the ground they are the only thing left standing."
Huh. Well, that was certainly true. Aware that Sir had been stroking and softly massaging her back and buttocks while waiting patiently for her answer, she felt herself smiling a broad smile. "If it will make you happy, Sir, go ahead. I am willing." She laughed then, finding some strange insouciant release in this decision. "No wait. Here, let me really make your day. Sir, my dear Sir, oh Sir, will you please, please spank me? Will you hurt me? Even though I hate pain I really, really want you to. I want you to spank me because for some reason you love to do it. So I am begging you, spank me."
He laughed then and kissed, nibbled and stroked her, trailing up her back, to her neck. Right between her neck and shoulder was the place where he had first given her a hickey. He kissed and bit her there once more, but didn't suck. Nuzzling her he said, "You are such a good girl, mon cher. I am going to make you come very hard. Inestimable, belle – if you did not so love this husband of yours I vow I would keep you for myself."
Elizabeth giggled for she knew Sir had no serious intuitions to keep her. His comment was a compliment, a sort of sweet attempt to flirt with her.
Slap!
Sir's palm descended, landing on her buttocks, and it wasn't painful. She realized suddenly that he was left-handed as his right hand had remained between her legs, resting possessively against her pussy. Slapping lightly, Sir covered every part of her bottom, yet there was no real sting. This was not like before, when she had refused to obey him. This was sensual and warming.
From time to time his hand landed on the butt plug and a huge roll of sensation went through her, all of it tantalizing.
"It is not so bad, eh?" he asked. "I warm you up this time, to prepare you. Enjoy what I do, Elizabeth." As he said that he began to massage her clit with two clever fingers, exactly as she did when she masturbated.
He began to strike her harder then, the flat of his hand hitting her rounded buttock, making it wobble and shake. She began to flinch and squirm under each tingling, smarting blow, her body drawn between sensations. Without thinking she raised her bottom up, wanting more attention from that cruel spanking hand, that slapped and heated her buttocks so tantalizingly. Yet she also wanted to push against the fingers that moved between her legs. These two sensations, pleasure and stinging pain warred with each other, combining and becoming a ball of heat and shameless, animal lust.
"Oh God, Sir!" - slap – "May I…" –slap- "…speak?" Elizabeth choked out.
"Yes," he said breathlessly, and his voice was thick with his own desire.
"Please, Sir," – slap – "let me come," – slap- "I need to come!"
"It pleases me, Elizabeth," he said, panting lustfully, and continuing his blows, "to torment you by denying you climax, and by making you accept pain. You may come when you accept more pain. Do you want me to hurt you?"
"Yes, yes, hurt me hurt me - just let me come!"
Sir's hand hit then with a resounding smack, and Elizabeth's pussy flooded his hand, but the pain! OMG! She thought. That really, really hurts.
"No!" she screamed.
"Yes," he said, delivering another blow that echoed loudly in the bathroom.
Elizabeth shrieked as an intense pulse of sensation rolled through her, taking her breath away. Mercilessly he spanked her, left cheek, right, alternating blows and often hitting her plug. Sweating and panting and crying out unintelligibly, Elizabeth, who no longer had any choice, endured her punishment.
Rhythmically his hand struck her, sending shockwaves through her body, and it felt as if her womb contracted with each one. Her belly clenched and her pussy wept and pulsed and all the while Sir stroked her, tracing her sopping clit and labia, running his fingers around her slit, and never quite going in. Yet his thumb was on her clit now, pulling back the slippery hood and he inserted two fingers within her wet channel.
Elizabeth felt as if her ass and her pussy were both on fire and she screamed – from pain or pleasure, she wasn't sure which, but she just had to put a voice to those overwhelming sensual sensations. A shudder was growing, something huge within her core, and she was trembling uncontrollably. It was huge, it was too much – sensations overwhelmed her.
With her entire body quivering, Sir said, "Now, mon cher. Come for me." Just then Sir stopped spanking her and did a number of things all at once. He inserted his fingers deep within her aching pussy, pressing against her G spot while his thumb flicked her clit hard, and at the same time he pulled her ass cheeks apart and breached the ring of her anus, tight around the butt plug, with his tongue.
No woman could have stood against such a concerted attack, and Elizabeth was no exception. She screamed and screamed and screamed her orgasm, bucking and shaking and trembling uncontrollably with aftershocks for some time afterwards.
As she lay like a dead thing, Sir washed her between the legs and carefully dried her. Then he removed her handcuffs and pulled her into his arms. "Come, mon cher," he said softly. "You are tired and it is time for bed." Sir turned her toward him drawing her against his chest. He raised her arms and placed them around him, and then lifted her. Immediately she curled comfortably into his neck and
shoulder, yet it was an unconscious response.
For Elizabeth was already asleep.
18. Sir's Occupation
Gently, Sir placed her onto the bed. Elizabeth instantly curled on to her side, moving into a loose fetal position, and he chuckled at her trusting body language. The woman did not fear him right now and perhaps never would again. Oh, she might be apprehensive, but she knew his intentions were honorable. He had wanted to help her, and he had. Sir bent over and attached a cuff to her left ankle. The cuff had a long light chain that was attached to the bottom left bed post. Elizabeth, already fast asleep, didn't move.
He sighed, thinking of his aching erection. He should have had her suck him off first, but never mind. He smiled. He had wanted to get at that beautiful derrière of hers. Later today his cock would get all it needed, for he planned to come back and take her in the ass later. That was one thing that he would not put off until tomorrow.
Sir reached down and found the sheet and pulled it up over her, tucking her in and then checking the room temperature. Assuring himself that she would not be too cold or too hot, he went to the bathroom and got a warm washcloth. Then he removed her blindfold and washed her tear-stained face, leaving the blindfold off. Elizabeth barely stirred throughout, which again was extremely satisfying to him. One did not sleep so soundly when one felt unsafe. Even when unconscious Elizabeth clearly trusted him, believing that he would take care of her.
He placed the note he had written on the bedside table, for her to find when she woke.
André Chevalier moved to the door, quietly opening it. Smiling fondly as he took one last look at the utterly exhausted woman. He said under his breath, "For now, mon cher you are mine. Mine for five more days." Then he softly left the room,
He had intentionally pushed her hard all day, keeping her off balance and forcing her to re-examine the fixed patterns of her current lifestyle and to make her look at her own needs and desires. Stripping her down like that had been hard on her, but such a result! Elizabeth was perfect.
In his profession he had found that it was not uncommon for the most strong, intelligent and powerful women of the world to be submissive in bed. This was possibly some sort of natural selection, a way to improve the species. Perhaps in the prehistoric past it was in the genetic best interest for the most promising female to seek the strongest, most dominant partner. Considering the millions of years such a woman was in the making made him smile. Elizabeth was worth every eon of it.
A good outcome for his efforts with her was never really in question, but he had expected it would take far longer to get to this point. She was such a clever girl, and so willing to look at herself when directed. At thirty-six, André was an accomplished master. Women, all women were his forte, he understood them, their bodies and their psyches both in and out. Elizabeth's husband, Mark, however, was going to be much more of a challenge.
As André passed into the adjoining chamber, the man in question began a vicious string of invectives: "It that you, you lying, cheating fucking rat bastard? I swear to God you are finished. I am going to sue you for everything you've got, and then I'm going to kill you, you miserable piece of shit."
André drew a deep breath, and moved to the chair near his bed. The male half of this troublesome project lay face dawn, naked and chained spread eagled to the bed, his large body vibrating with explosive tension. Mark Nelson, Elizabeth's husband, was a much tougher case than she was.
"Mon ami," he began, "I had hoped that we could talk, that you may be willing to see reason…"
"I am not your fucking friend! You have been fucking my wife! MY wife! Cheating bastard. This isn't what I signed up for. This isn't what we agreed! I paid you big money. You were highly recommended by Billingsworth. He is another rat bastard that I'll get even with. Bastard!"
"Imbecile! This is exactly what you signed up for. You cannot sue me, you cannot touch me for I am not so maladroit. You have signed both non-disclosure and forms and agreement for me to deliver a service, in front of witnesses. Sexual counseling and remedy. Me, I am perfectly safe. For I am doing as you have instructed - what I was paid to do."
"You are fucking my wife! And making me watch!"
André struggled to hide his irritation, and took a deep breath. He looked over at the large screen displayed upon the wall. A professionally edited version of the last many hours with Elizabeth showed, and he smiled as he observed himself guiding his cock deep into her throat for the first time. Mark, tied as he was, had to crane his neck to see it. André thought he could easily imagine smoke and fire boiling from the big man's ears he was so enraged.
"It was malchance to show you these without the sound track," André said. "Yet I did not know there was a problem with the audio. C'est la vie. My staff assures me that the track will be available later today, mon ami."
"I am not your friend!"
"Perhaps not, but I am yours. Your wife and I speak of you often, Mark, and already I have solved the problem you came to me with. You are a lucky man. Elizabeth is une femme fantastique and she loves you very much."
"But I notice that she is happily fucking you!" Mark said and raw jealousy rang in his voice.
"This was not her choice, as you well know. I scared her and threatened your life. This was part of the plan. I have learned, oh so much. I wish to share this knowledge, but matters of this import can only be discussed by reasonable men. You are not at all reasonable."
A tray of food had been placed near the bed and André picked up a large glass of orange juice from it. He put in a straw, and held it to Mark's lips. "Drink." The man must have been very thirsty, André reflected, because he drank the entire glass without objection or even one "fuck you." Wordlessly he offered him another tall glass, this time of water. Mark again, drank it down. André had no intention of feeding the big man until the idiot saw reason.
"Uncuff me," Mark said when he finished.
André laughed. "I think not. The result would not be unlike the running of the bulls in Spain - but without the barricades."
"You can't just keep me like this."
"I will keep you exactly like this until you see reason, mon ami."
"Stop calling me that. I am not your fucking friend and I swear to God I am going to kill you when I get out of here!"
"With this attitude what makes you think I will let you go?" André asked.
19. Mark's Punishment
André sighed. "I have spent many hours gathering information and researching your wife to comprehend her psyche. Unfortunately I did not spend time investigating you. You monsieur, gave every appearance of being a rational, experienced man of the world, in agreement with our stated goals."
He stood and picked up the riding crop. "Forgive me. I am not as accomplished with men, you understand, but I believe the principles are the same." André gave Mark ten lighter licks and then ten hard ones with the riding crop as the man had a large, muscular body that could take such a punishment. Besides, André reasoned, Mark needed to be aware of what it felt like in case he ever wished to crop his wife.
Elizabeth's husband bellowed and cursed throughout, never once begging for André to stop, even with the last five strokes, which André delivered with much increased force. When he was done André picked up the vibrating butt plug and Mark, who was watching, then did protest. "No way, not again!"
"Yes, again. And again and again until you become a sensible man." With professional experience André knelt on the bed and guided the plug inside, directing it to the man's prostate. Then he turned the vibration on low to start. Mark moaned. "Do not resist, mon ami," André said, "for as before, I am going to make you come."
"Bastard," Mark mumbled in a hoarse voice.
André put one hand on his captive's lower back and simply upped the vibrating pulse. Mark began to swear and buck and thrust against the friction of the bed. It didn't take long until the man spent himself against the sheets and collapsed, hurling angry abusive words at him throughout. André tu
rned the plug off, but with some effort - working it in and out - he fully inserted it into the huge man's muscular behind. Mark had tried to prevent this, but changed his mind and complied when André threatened to whip his testicles with the riding crop.
"This is set on rotation vibration," André said, sitting on the bed beside his captive. "Every thirty minutes you will have an orgasm, then a thirty minute break. Then we begin again until you come to your senses. It is up to you how many times you fuck this bed." André stood up. "I make you my complements, mon ami. Of all the clients I have had over all the years I have been in this profession, you are the most stubborn."
Mark said nothing, but sullen resentment positively radiated from the man.
André laughed. "I leave you now, and go to shower and dress," he said, as he walked away, down the hall toward the lifts. "I will return in an hour or two. If you were not such an obstinate man, you and I could both enjoy your wife - the man she loves and myself. We could give Elizabeth a holiday full of sexual fantasies. Together we could use her body for our pleasure in every imaginable way."
"What?" Mark shouted. "What are you talking about?"
André paused, turned and sighed. "You comprehend perfectly, mon ami. You have no one but yourself to blame for this stubborn, prudish and childish stupidity of yours. Imbecile. As things stand, I am going to fuck Elizabeth's virgin ass on my own." André's voice echoed through the room.
Mark screamed, "No!" and the despairing sound was pitiful. "Wait!"
But Andre had already left.
20. André Chevalier
Merciless André ignored Elizabeth's husband. He pulled on his embroidered silk dressing gown with the green velvet trim and continued walking until he could no longer hear Mark yelling. The bathrobe had been purchased in the United Kingdom, as the British, unlike everywhere else, really knew gentlemen's dressing gowns. André had a weakness, the love of quality clothes - he only wore the very best.