Shit! Elizabeth fell back on her bed, grabbed a pillow and hugged it. Not again! I must not come, I must not come, but man oh man!
The temptation to touch herself, to finish off her building orgasm was overpowering, and she thrashed, cried out and rolled, trying to subdue the impulse. Eventually she locked on to a yoga course she had once taken and concentrated upon her breathing. Breathe in with the nostrils, out with the mouth. Nose in, mouth out.
Oh god! She shut her eyes and tried to remain still, imagining stepping on slugs with bare feet or worse – stepping on watery dog poo or fresh throw-up. Anything disgusting that would take her mind off her burning lust. The vibrator suddenly went to low, and then stopped altogether.
Expelling a deep breath, Elizabeth sat up, opened her eyes and looked straight into a mirror. Her hair was disheveled, her skin flushed. She looked like a mad woman, and come to think of it, she kind of felt like one too. Frowning, she saw a glint of something spiteful in her eyes and clenched her teeth. Right then she vowed that come what may she would eventually get even with Sir: sometime, somehow, someway.
3. André's Case Difficile
Merde! Sitting in front of his computer André Chevalier swore out loud. Furious with himself, he slammed his hand against the desk and stood up.
André had been studying up on Elizabeth's husband, after employing his confidential and very expensive sources. Mark worked at one time for the American Government as a consultant. Whatever the big brute had done, it was locked away in classified files. Espionage? Counter espionage? But the man was a lawyer! How could this be? Yet he had worked for the Judge Advocate General.
Still in his dressing gown after his shower, he began to pace. Well, whatever the man Mark had been or done, André didn't want to know more. Checking his Platinum Cartier wrist watch and well aware of the time he began a string of invectives in French. The big man was due to climax any minute, and André had wanted to be there, to prevent it. By his calculations Mark would have already climaxed three times, which was more than enough for an unfed and probably dehydrated man.
By the time he got down the lift and to the lower floor, André was too late. As he walked in he saw the powerful man's face, his head raised off the bed, where he was tied spread-eagle. Mark was grimacing, furiously fighting his own body and trying not to climax. The angry man had no chance. There was the hint of vulnerability in Mark's eyes, a lost, almost little boy look of surprise, then his body lunged forward, rattling the metal cuffs, pulling on them and threatening to break them with the strain as he came and came and came.
Mon Dieu! Elizabeth's husband was vraiment magnifique! With his huge chest heaving and powerful hips and thighs pumping, Mark's strong buttocks clenched and clenched as he climaxed. The smell of him permeated the room, a heavy potent scent of a male animal. André wanted to genuflect, or clap, or at least yell, bravo! Such a man! He recalled Elizabeth's words, when Mark had taken her by pushing her up against a wall, just before the wedding march: It was like trying to hold back some powerful natural event with my hands, like trying to stop a tornado, or an avalanche.
And so, he thought. I see the avalanche in action.
Like any accomplished Dom, André had experienced submissive training. The best Tops were also experienced Bottoms. While André didn't normally bottom, he would seriously consider bottoming for this man. Provided Mark was a Dom, of course, which remained to be seen.
André shook his head, as he recalled Elizabeth's experience at the wedding. No. this man's preference was dominance. There were so many possible reasons why Mark withheld his natural inclinations - guilt, religion, moralistic concepts of right and wrong, or childhood experiences. Had his father physically abused his mother perhaps? Yet even as an untrained Dom, André felt compelled to risk being under his hand. Such a man! Making love to Elizabeth with him controlling the scene would be a unique experience.
André's gut twisted with premonition. Mark had displayed vulnerability and panic when his body had taken control – every other time he had successfully hidden such weakness with anger. It was malchance to see Elizabeth's husband in a moment where he had let his guard down. This was going to complicate things. André had unintentionally observed Mark's moment of helplessness and whatever else the man forgave he would not easily forgive him that.
Maintaining a deliberately bland expression, André took his phone out of his top pocket and speed dialed a number while his captive watched. Any other man would have looked away, laying his exhausted head down facing the other direction - but not Elizabeth's husband. Mark's expression was one of malevolent spite and André's spine tingled. There was no point in pretending he hadn't seen the man vulnerable. It was best to simply move forward.
Yes, André thought with melancholy regret. If for nothing else, the big man will make me pay for this.
4. Managing Mark
Act normally, André decided as he moved toward the bed.
"Monsieur," he said, "do not abuse me, as I will not tolerate it and I have no wish to gag you." He gestured to a ball gag that lay on a side table nearby. "You are hungry and you are angry, and yet there is work to be done."
Elizabeth's husband, still breathing hard, remained silent. André locked a large black collar around Mark's neck, then put another cuff on his right wrist. He uncuffed the right wrist and immediately Mark attempted to grab him, but André pulled the chain attached to the new cuff and connected it to the man's neck collar. He did the same with the other wrist, until Mark was secured with both hands behind his back, each chained to his neck.
"Now Monsieur, I am going to move you to another room that my staff have prepared. You will find food, clothes and a shower waiting for you as well as a key to uncuff yourself. Do you come willingly or will you fight me? I am going to uncuff your ankles now, but I have this taser, do you see?" He showed him the black gun with the yellow stripe. "So sorry, Monsieur, but I do not trust you at all. May I have your word that you will submit to this? For I am persuaded you do not wish to stay on this, bed oh so désagréable."
Mark gave one curt nod. André raised his eyebrows and Mark added, "I'll come willingly if you swear you're going to set me free."
"On my honor, it is as I say. Once in this secure room, you may take your cuffs off."
"Alright," Mark said. "My word on it."
"Bon." André uncuffed his ankles, keeping his distance. Then as if gesturing to a valued guest, he directed Mark to walk toward another room. Once inside he said, "Please, sit." Mark sat down on the comfortable couch.
André took a deep breath. "Je suie desole, Monsieur. Mistakes have been made, yes, many mistakes have been made. And yet I still believe that all will yet be well and you will be very satisfied with my services."
Mark snorted at that.
"Non. It is true. Your desire is to keep the wife you love, yes? I know what she needs, and if you can overcome your natural instincts to perhaps tear me limb from limb, then you will learn, oh, so much. Please excuse me, you will be watched Monsieur at all times so do not try to escape. This door is locked. And here you will find everything you need.
"What are you planning you little shit?" Mark said. "Are you going to try to appease me? So that I won't beat the shit out of you?"
André's smile was genuine and he laughed. "I do like you Monsieur, indeed I do. This is my hope. I am a professional. Why did Billingsworth guide you to me? He was satisfied with my services, yes? Or does he hate you? You are angry Monsieur, but use this time to think things through, s'il vous plaît. I do not covet your wife. Elizabeth is yours, completely yours, as you will learn when you listen and watch those tapes."
Mark snorted once more, and he eyed his captor with calculated malevolent intent. "I have seen all I need to see of those tapes."
"Perhaps. But have you heard all you need to hear? For I have told you before. Elizabeth talks of you often, and she has spoken to me of her sexual troubles. You were wise to come to me."
Mark gave a scornful
scoff.
"Non, it is true. You may keep your anger Monsieur, but it would be stupid not to take advantage of this opportunity. I have had my staff compile a list of audio – only those words that are relevant to your concerns. You will find it on the menu when you switch the TV on."
André gestured to a booklet. "I have also left you this small book that concerns BDSM, and the nature of such things. It is necessary, if you please. I will need to know, Monsieur, what you like, what your sexual fantasies are and how they will fit together with your wife's.
Mark gave an ugly laugh. "Right," he said in a snide manner. "As if that's going to happen. Forget it. I'm sorry I ever got us into this."
"Do not be stupid Monsieur, for you are not l'homme imbécile. Think with the mind not the natural jealous inclinations. Pretend you are French, a much more sensible race altogether on the matters of the heart! Now I leave you. The remote is here, and I ask you consider watching the recording of what I have done with your wife – but if not - at least listen to only the audio. You will hear how much we speak of you Monsieur. She has oh, much to say. Eat, shower, sleep…do as you will. Remember, do not try to escape as my security staff have been alerted. They watch always, and you will not get far. You do not know it yet, but this is exactly where you need to be."
André put the key to unlock Mark's cuffs on the coffee table. "Je regrette, Monsieur. I thought to dominate you as I have done to so many others. So stupid, for I suspect you would rather die than submit. So be it. Now I ask for your willingness to obey my requests. Mon Dieu, I beg for you to stop and think." André moved toward the door as Mark turned his back, reaching for the key to his handcuffs.
"All will be well, Monsieur," André said. "I do not seek to appease you, I only seek the lever that will help you choose to listen. Do this because you love your wife, and because she loves you. Do this because you need the skills I have to offer, Monsieur. I can and I will assist you. Together we will save your marriage."
Intent on uncuffing himself, Mark did not reply.
Without another word, André left.
5. Dress-up's
Yowza, Elizabeth thought. How seriously hot do I look? Dressed in her red satin corset with the black lacey overlay, Elizabeth studied herself in the mirror. The tiny black G-string, thigh high sheer stockings and black seven inch high heel shoes made her look soooo totally sexy.
She smiled broadly, turning sidewise and front on, and even getting a look at her back in the mirror. She also looked tall. Too good for mortal man, she assured herself. Speaking of men, where was her husband Mark? She was supposed to be seeing him sometime today. A part of her wanted him to see her like this – although that would cause nothing but trouble.
The butt plug had stopped vibrating, but she could still feel it, an unpleasantly full sensation heavy in her back passage. She heard the sound of a door opening and spun around quickly, her heart pounding. André, walking with confident grace, came into the room and paused about fifteen feet away. His eyes, dark and expressive went directly to hers and he smiled.
Elizabeth melted. OMG that smile!
"Salut, mon cher," he said with a soft, low voice, in that sexy French accent. With his eyes never leaving hers, he strode toward her, and this made her stomach flutter. People often stared at her - she was considered beautiful - even if she was short. But Sir seemed be intensely focused on her eyes, drinking in her. It was comforting and refreshing that although Sir considered her physically attractive, he was also interested in the person that she was.
With a perverse, inexcusable double standard, she on the other hand only wanted to see his body.
Elizabeth was captivated. She had seen Sir, by way of watching him sexually torment her on the big TV screen, had observed his face and his reactions, even his orgasm when she had serviced him with her mouth. Using the remote she had spent some time going over and over the scenes where his face was clearly displayed, particularly when he climaxed. Not only was it hot to watch him come, but it seemed only fair after he had watched her reach orgasm so many times. But the full screen view of him was nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh. She found her body immediately reacting to his presence, to that wonderful scent of nutmeg, cedar and Brazilian Rosewood cologne and the deep melodic sound of his voice.
Elizabeth's captor, Sir, was shorter than Mark, perhaps exactly six foot to Mark's six foot four. His figure was slimmer, too; well proportioned in a lithe yet muscular way - he obviously worked out or played sport.
Sir looked fantastic. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, probably from Savile Row, with a well ironed and fitted, crisp white button-down tailored dress shirt with gold cuff links and tie pin, each adorned with what looked like rubies. His necktie made her blush for she knew it exactly matched her outfit, with the precise same red and black running through it. Elizabeth knew that he had dressed up for her and foolishly, she felt unreasonably flattered. His dark shoes were hand-made, distinctive Berluti footwear. Elizabeth, well aware of fashion, knew they were probably close to two thousand dollars a pair.
As he drew closer, Elizabeth instinctively lifted her hands, wanting to touch him. Sir stopped, just out of reach.
"Mon cher, do you forget yourself already?" he asked in that deceptively mild, yet authoritative voice. "Hands behind your back, lace your fingers. I have not given you permission to touch me, have I?"
Lowering her eyes, and blushing Elizabeth immediately complied. "Sorry, Sir," she said. It was stupid to feel embarrassed and even guilty, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to obey him, and she had determined to no longer fight that particular crazy desire. She craved his admiration, his acknowledgment, or his approval – whatever. Every particle of her being wanted to please him. Sir dominated her and she wanted him to. Instinct? Madness? Insanity? Or just Stockholm Syndrome. Whatever it was, she had already surrendered.
Sir stepped right up close to her. Nervous, she swallowed.
"Look at me, mon cher," he said and she did. Like the sun, warm on her skin, the man smiled at her and she smiled back, absurdly happy that he was not mad at her.
"Elizabeth, do you want to touch me?"
"Oh, yes, Sir," she replied.
"Bon," he said. "Soon you shall get your wish." He raised both hands and stroked her hair back from her face, putting it behind her ears. The smell of him, freshly showered with that wonderful cologne, caused a flutter of somersaults in her stomach. Cupping one hand on one cheek and one behind her neck, he bent forward and slowly kissed her. It was a warm, lazy kiss and Elizabeth melted into him, answering his lightly probing tongue with her own. Her eyes closed in a breath-robbing spike of desire. As their bodies smoothly came together, Sir's hard form pressed up against her.
Sir pulled away. "You are so sweet, mon cher," he said and stood back a step. "But right now, show me this outfit you wear for my pleasure. Display yourself."
Elizabeth raised her hands, and did a little spin. It was kind of awkward with the chain on one ankle and with the uncomfortable toy in her backside, but she managed to walk slowly and sensuously, a few paces back and forth. Then she stopped and gave him a sultry pose. She giggled, because dress-ups were fun, and she could see the undisguised admiration in his eyes.
He laughed. "Fantastique! Mon Dieu, the big man would eat you if he saw you like this, n'est-ce pas?"
Elizabeth's hand went to her mouth as she choked on an involuntary chuckle. Wouldn't Mark's eyes bug out if he saw her dressed as she was, like a high class courtesan? Her husband had never treated her with anything but love and respect both in and out of the bedroom which, she was beginning to realize, was a real pity. "God yes," she said. "Mark would love this outfit, Sir. I can't believe I've never worn anything like it before. When I get out of here, I'll buy us both something special."
"Bonne idée," he said with a nod of agreement.
But Elizabeth wondered what would happen when she and Mark were freed. Would she ever be able to dress like this for him? When she had dress
ed in a corset for her captor first?
6. Corseted and Cuffed
The corset had pushed Elizabeth's breasts up and out, making the tops of her bosoms rounded, kind of like two large pillows. Sir ran a finger lightly over this skin, moving along her breasts, from one side to the other. His actions raised gooseflesh, and a rush of exquisite longing. Elizabeth cleared her throat.
"Such soft, soft skin, mon cher." Sir lowered his face between her breasts and took a deep breath in. "Mon Dieu, you smell good. I did not provide perfume, belle femme. There is nothing better than your own seductive female scent." He pulled back from her then and said, "Turn around and I will tie your corset properly." She did, and as he pulled the lacings taut, she took in an anxious breath and chewed a lip. "Yes, mon cher, I make it shockingly tight. Do you know why?"
"So I feel constrained, Sir?"
"Just so, clever girl. This garment is firm and stiff against you, and every time you inhale you will remember who controls you, who owns your body, and who can do anything he wants to you," he breathed into the back of her neck, his warm breath seductively caressing the hollow behind her ear. "And," he added darkly, "at any time I wish."
Elizabeth's womb contracted at this erotic wording, and her gush of arousal could not be managed with the tiny little G string she had on. It began to drip slowly down her thighs. When Sir finished tightening her corset, he ran a finger over the slick drop, wetting himself with her slippery essence. "Open," he said, putting his finger near her lips, and she did. When he had placed his finger inside she moaned, and sucked it like she would his cock.
"Good girl," he said in a deep soft voice. "Mon Dieu, you are so good. I shall reward you by making you climax hard, oh many times. This I promise."