Her mouth dropped open in surprised astonishment at such an outrageous command. He smirked inwardly, but reached out a long finger and pushed her chin until her mouth snapped shut. Looking directly into her frightened eyes, his voice took on a low and commanding tone. "You will do this for me. If not, we'll get back in the car and return to the club and Peter's car." He said nothing else, but with calm assurance studied her face.
Every thought was apparent on her young, guileless face. He could see her internal turmoil -- I'm not taking off my clothes in front of them right here in a garage she rebelled! Then you want to leave, her mind asked itself. I'm not leaving, she knew that much for sure. This is so exciting -- he's so commanding, so thrilling. Then take off your clothes, her mind suggested. That's just too humiliating -- I'd be SO embarrassed. Isn't that part of the thrill, her wicked little self asked? Slowly timidly she began to slip off her blouse.
"Excellent," Rick smiled patting her check in a thoroughly condescending gesture. "Place them neatly on the car -- careful not to scratch my finish. Oh, and leave on the ridiculous little shoes," indicating her murderously high heels. He turned and walked into the house, confident that she and Peter would follow.
"Hurry up," Peter encouraged, grabbing her blouse out of her hands to fold it neatly.
"You could help me," Patty hissed.
"I am helping you he said," folding her skirt and placing it neatly on the blouse.
Rick slowed, aware of their whispered conversation and when he sensed they were about to enter the house began to stroll through the kitchen to the basement door. "Mind the stairs, they are quite steep." he instructed turning on the light. When Peter and Patty arrived breathlessly behind him he was unlocking a door in the basement. He winked over his shoulder and said, "This is my very special playroom." Patty startled as she heard the lock snick behind them. "I had it specially constructed when I bought the house. It's totally soundproofed behind all this lovely used brick." His hand traveled gently from her waist down her ass as he said, "you could scream for days, no one would hear you." The light was dim and had a red quality. He watched her eyes widen as she stared around his dungeon. He saw her gaze flit over the large dark cabinets, saw her shy away from even looking at the many devices that lined the walls, watched her scent the air, could she smell the well-oiled leather, the brandy...the fear?
Rick walked to a cabinet, removed something dark and came to stand close to Patty's trembling form. "Now, for the next lesson, extend your arms," he commanded. Patty obeyed and he locked thick leather bands around each wrist. He observed her reaction closely and was neither surprised nor disappointed to see her calm visibly. He saw her pulse rate slow, her breathing become slower and deeper, felt some of the rigid tension leave her body.
"Do you see it Peter," Rick asked as he applied similar bands to each ankle. "There is something about the cuffs, even before they are hooked to anything else...I don't know if it's the smell of the leather, or the weight of the cuffs, or the tinkle of the metal loops, but something about them calms a true submissive. It's magical and totally beyond her control. Maybe her subconscious knows that she's in the presence of a true dominant and she can finally surrender." He looked into Patty's startled face and bent to gently kiss her surprised mouth.
"So Peter," Rick said walking to a pillar at the center of the room. "Bondage is an art. There are as many styles and techniques as there are Doms. We each have our favorite, but each situation calls for a unique approach. In this case, I'm looking for something that is firm enough to thrill our little slut without being too complicated. I'm also concerned about the fact that she's never been tied up before. Isn't that true my little cum-slut," he asked absently stroking Patty's breast. "I know she's fantasized about it, and we want to make sure it lives up to her expectations. We also want to be sure it's something she can sustain. I'm not sure how long she'll be up and she is, after all untried." Reassuringly he stroked the other breast.
It was so handy to have Peter present to talk to. He knew it infuriated and humiliated her to be spoken about as if she wasn't present. He also knew she was too terrified to utter a squeak.
The whole time he'd been talking, Rick had been attaching a bar horizontal to the pillar. This was done very quickly -- his equipment was designed for spontaneous choice and everything he needed was always close at hand. He casually took hold of one of Patty's cuffs and hooked it to one end of the bar. Before she had time to mutter a protest, he had the other wrist hooked near the other end of the bar. Her arms were spread as wide as possible, but she was able to support her elbows on the bar. She tugged forcibly on each cuff, pulling hard with her arms and then the leverage of her body. Rick was pleased to see that she tested the bondage thoroughly as it saved him the trouble of doing it. "Wait!" Patty protested. "I didn't say ... I never agreed... I didn't mean..."
"Yes, my precious little CUNT," Rick spoke harshly over her complaint. "You did agree and I'll hear no more from you without permission. If you don't stop this whining, I'll have to gag you. Or maybe that's what you want," he purred stroking her cheek. She shook her head frantically, tossing her long hair back and forth. "All right, then we'll hold off on the gag for now. I'd rather hear you scream anyway," he said casually reaching for a metal bar. As he knelt at her feet, attaching the 2 foot rod to each of her ankles, he could see the effect of his comment. This naive little slut was wondering if she was going to get more than she bargained for -- more than she believed she could handle. He watched her struggle in earnest, trying to kick away from the spreader bar. He watched the dawning horror on her face as she felt the vulnerability, the exposure.
He stepped back to admire his handiwork and to savor the moment. This moment was precious, when a woman realizes that she's in it for real -- there is no escape. And suddenly she's not sure she wants to go through with it. If she could just get away she'd run screaming into the night. She looked magnificent. Well, every woman in bondage looks magnificent, but this young innocent one especially so. Her breasts, so firm and so round, were heaving. But in spite of her fear, her nipples were hard little points that he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. As her legs and hips bucked he knew that in just a moment he'd discover that her cunt was wet. Yes, he could smell her arousal. But it was time to calm her before she hurt herself.
He stepped close to her exposed and vulnerable form and embraced her. Wrapping his arms firmly around her trembling, heaving body, drawing her head into his chest. "Shh," he whispered in her ear. "You're all right. You're safe, I've got you. Nothing bad is going to happen. Do you believe me," he asked drawing back to look at her face? Slowly, tentatively she began to shake her head. "You don't believe me?" he said incredulously, smiling warmly into her terrified face. He gently kissed her trembling mouth. "Do you remember your colors," he asked? "Ah, now she remembers," he chuckled watching the calmness come over her face. "Color," he demanded.
She took a deep and tremulous breath. Her voice was almost a sob as she became a willing participant in her degradation and humiliation. Her face flushed in embarrassment as she whispered, "gr...gr...green."
"I know," he replied. "Look how wet my whore is." His hand dipped to her cunt and he brought a slick finger up to her face. "Smell my bitch," he said holding the finger under her nose. Her face became even more flushed, although he didn't think that was possible. Her lips trembled in her mortification. "Taste my bitch," he said rubbing her own slime against her lips and pushing the finger into her mouth. "Suck it," he commanded. "Suck yourself off my fingers. I know how much you want it. You can't hide from me he said as she obeyed and tasted herself on his hand. I'll give you what you want -- what both of us want," he whispered as his mouth closed over hers. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. His hands fisted in her hair pulling her head back and trapping her mouth against his. His tongue invaded the softness, tasting the sweetness of her juices on her own tongue. He hammered the sweet space in a parody of intercourse -- fucking her mouth while she sucked eagerly, moaning and growling her need into his mouth. "Now," he said finally lifting his head from her eager mouth, "I think we can move on."
Peter stood off to the side, his expression hungry and greedy, his arousal painfully apparent in his pants. Rick felt no sympathy for the youth. He'd had his chance at this magnificent woman and he didn't know what to do with it. She might be young and innocent -- more naive really -- he didn't believe she'd been innocent since the first moment her tender young breasts began to bud on her teenage chest. She had an innate wisdom and Rick was sure she had tormented many a young boy while she searched for a man who would understand what she needed. Peter was just another of those tormented causalities who would be left in her wake. The difference is that Peter might have some clue after what he would be allowed to see tonight. Maybe he would have some idea of what to do the next time he had the good fortune to encounter such an amazing woman. But he would have to wait for the next one -- Rick possessed Patty now, Peter had touched her for the last time. And to show his gratitude, he'd show the boy a few more tips.
Strolling to a cabinet, Rick flung the doors wide and expounded, "Whips, floggers, canes, crops, paddles...there are myriad ways to strike eager flesh...ways to punish and ways to arouse. And as with bondage, must be carefully suited to the purpose at hand." Peter's eyes bugged out as he beheld an array of implements. He'd never seen anything like most of them. "But tonight, given the virginal tenderness of her young flesh, and the location I plan to abuse, we'll use this lovely little toy." He chose a small black whip that had many small strands. He handed it to Peter who noticed that the thin strands felt rubbery, like PVC. "Hit your arm with it," Rick suggested. "Not much right? We could beat her ass, even her back all night with this little baby. She'd redden up a bit, especially with her fair skin, she'd certainly love the sound...he suddenly swung the whip and it whistled before landing firmly on Patty's ass. She jumped and squealed more from start than pain.
"However," Rick continued walking around Patty. This same whip, when applied to the tenderest of sweet flesh," he allowed the tendrils of the whip to swirl around Patty's vulnerable tits. He knew this was actually a pleasant tickling sensation, but coupled with his words and the fear that he might strike her tender tits with the whip, Patty's already aroused tits puckered up even further and goose bumps erupted on her breasts. Rick swirled the whip over her ribs and along her belly causing her to jump and gasp. He allowed it to trail across her pussy and down her legs. Rick was watching closely and he didn't miss the sight of widened eyes and dilating pupils, nor the sudden pungent aroma of his excited slut. Rather sharply Rick struck back and forth on the inside of her tender quivering thighs, just below her pussy. When she gasped audibly Rick brought his face to her ear and breathed... "color?"
He loves how hard this is for her, loves watching the war of her emotions and feelings playing out on her face. She could end it all, and she knows it. He is forcing her to participate in this depravity -- she can't pretend he is forcing her when he demands that she engage, agree, ask for it. And what is it? She doesn't even know what she's asking for, but he knows she'll see this through. And there is time enough for the rest later.
"Green," she spits out. Instantly the whip flashes against her tit striking the taunt, exposed vulnerable nipple. There is a flash of pain and her body responds by tensing and pulling against her restraints.
"Again?" Rick asks.
"Yes," she breathes and the other nipple receives its dose.
"More?" he asks. Their eyes meet and he sees it -- the yearning he's been watching for. Without waiting for an answer, he delivers a flurry of strikes weaving the whip back and forth between her vulnerable tits -- striking just precisely on the nipple each time. He falls into a rhythm like a painter with a brush or a drummer with his skins striking right then left then right then left over and over and over again. She falls into the rhythm with him -- knowing what to expect, where to anticipate the blow. He watches her settle, feels the harmony, the synchronicity created by his attack and her response...his gift and her reception.
