Master had warned her once that he wouldn't let her go easily.
"Twenty strokes. Wiggle that ass and show me how much you want it," Master ordered.
Connie straddled the narrow wooden bench and tried not to think as she twirled and swung her hips obediently as he landed thirty strokes on her upturned ass. The slim silver chain threaded through the ring at the front of her leather collar and clamped lightly to her nipples tugged lusciously at her tender flesh as she gyrated.
"Faster," he told her, and she obeyed. This will be the last time, she reminded herself, silently counting the paddle strokes.
This was the last day of their contract, and Master had warned her when she'd arrived at the abandoned warehouse that he would make it memorable. But she'd finally had enough of his particular brand of fun. On his orders, she'd serviced every man -- and several women -- in his circle of playmates while took photos, but she hadn't been allowed an orgasm for six months.
And that's what she'd told him when he'd asked her a month ago to continue their contract. "Do whatever you want with the photos," she'd told him. "There will be consequences for you as well. Just remember that."
Paddling finished, he ordered her to lie on her back on the bench with her hands at her sides. He knelt beside her to cuff her wrists to the bench's metal legs. Her ankles were next, but he had a surprise for her. A spreader bar dangled from the ceiling, and he lifted her ankles to cuff them to either end of the bar.
When he was done, Connie lay on the bench with her legs raised and spread in a wide "V," leaving her breasts, her ass and her pussy completely exposed.
Master knelt between her legs to fasten a slim leather belt around her waist, and a second later, Connie gasped as he pushed a huge vibrator up into her pussy, inserting it fully. She had to thrust her hips up off the bench to take the monstrous vibrator all the way into her body, and she squealed a little as Master turned it, adjusting it so that the little "finger" that extended from the thick plastic shaft rested snugly against her neglected clit. The anal plug was next, and she flinched at the cool trickle of lube between her ass cheeks. Master smeared a layer of lube on the plug itself, then told her to take a deep breath as he pushed it up into her in a single, firm stroke. She groaned a little when it finally slid past the tight ring of muscle, stretching and filling her completely.
"Lift up," he ordered her, and she raised her hips again as he fastened a second leather belt to the one around her waist, threading it through the ring in the base of the ass plug and pulling it taut to hold the vibrator in place before fastening it in front again to the original belt.
Connie squealed louder when he turned the vibrator on, her hips bucking involuntarily as the monster began buzzing insistently between her legs.
"Pay attention," he said calmly, and Connie tried to ignore the growing heat building between her legs. "I'm going to lock the door with this padlock when I leave in a minute. You'll need to give the combination to whoever comes to get you out of here. I suggest you repeat it after me, because I'm only going to tell you twice. It's 6, 17, 43, 5. Repeat it."
"What?" She yelped as he tugged the nipple chain hard. She was so close to coming. "What are you doing?"
"The combination is 6, 17, 43, 5. Repeat it."
Another tug, then another. "6, 17, 43, 5," she babbled, then screamed as an intense orgasm shot through her body.
"Now open your mouth and suck me dry," he ordered. "And you'd better memorize that combination, because you won't be able to call me for help."
Then he was fucking her mouth, making her gag a little as he thrust deeper and deeper. She whimpered, trying to tongue and suck him, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything but the whirr between her legs and the tugs and pulls at her poor nipples.
She came twice before Master did, hips bucking involuntarily off the rough wooden bench.
"What's the combination?" he demanded, zipping himself up.
Connie moaned, trying to remember. "17...no....6, 17, 43, 5." Another tug, and she was coming again, moaning with pleasure and helpless humiliation as her body responded to the relentless vibrator.
"I'm going to lock you in now. In an hour, I'll call someone to come and get you, but you'll have to give them the combination or wait for them to find some way to cut the padlock off." He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him. "Enjoy your orgasm."
He wiped her face clean with a towel, flipped the lights off, and then he was gone. Connie called out to him not to leave her, but he didn't answer. She watched him close the door, heard him click the padlock in place and then heard his footsteps as he walked away, leaving her there in the darkness.
She was sure, for the first half-hour or so, that he would come back, that the price for setting her free would be an extension of their contract. She bit her lip, determined not to let him hear her come as one orgasm after another rippled through her.
She was limp with exhaustion and dripping with sweat when she realized that he really had abandoned her here. Her body responded readily to the vibrator, and she was coming more intensely, more rapidly as the vibe buzzed steadily between her legs.
Her back and legs ached, and she found that raising her hips eased the pressure, but the movement just drove the vibrator and the plug deeper inside her, making her come even harder.
She tried to distract herself by wondering who Master would call to free her. The police? That would be an additional layer of humiliation. She worked for the District Attorney's office and knew many of the cops who worked in this part of town. And there would be an official report, which would effectively end her career.
The fire department? Not much of an improvement, she thought. They'd call the police and then two official agencies would be privy to her humiliation.
She pictured half a dozen cops and firefighters gathered around the bench to watch her writhe and wonder just what the hell was going on. She could almost see their hard-ons tenting their uniform trousers as one of the detectives she had a crush on discovered the anal plug and called the others in for a closer look....
And then she was coming again, harder than ever, hard enough that she was sobbing and gasping for breath when her climax finally ended.
She heard herself panting, felt the blood pounding in her ears as her body grew calmer. She shifted a little, trying to raise her hips a bit, and stretched her arms and legs as much as she could. She could only imagine how she must look, stuffed full and spread open for anyone who cared to look. Connie sighed and shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. The bench's rough wooden surface felt good under her skin. She was exhausted, but still horny, she acknowledged, and then her clit began to twitch again and she felt her pussy contract around the vibrator that filled her, and she groaned, knowing another orgasm was imminent.
A heartbeat later, she was coming, almost screaming as her hips ground futilely. Every time she came, her body's bucking motion caused the chain to pull at her nipples, and the tug went straight to her too-eager clit. The slim leather belt fastened tight between her legs didn't just hold the vibrator against her clit; it created its own constant friction against the overheated little nub. The stimulation was constant and overwhelming.
But it wasn't enough. She wanted the weight of a man's body over hers, she thought, and her pussy clenched at the idea. Even with the monstrous plastic cock filling her, all she really wanted was to be fucked senseless.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on just breathing.
But all she really wanted was a cock, hot and thick and pumping her hard. She could just imagine it, her tied helplessly to the bench as two, no, three uniformed cops waited their turn to fuck her while the firefighters lined up for her mouth. She could feel their fingers tormenting her nipples, their hands kneading and smacking her ass as their cocks pounded into her pussy.
And then she was coming again, her body spasming in exhausted pleasure. She sweated and writhed, but could barely do more than moan when she thought she heard something just outside the locked door.
Her body stilled for a second and she tried to catch her breath when a voice called out, "Connie?"
Oh, God, she thought, panicking as she recognized the voice.
"Connie, it's Mike. Are you in there? Are you all right?"
No, no, no....Not her boss. For a second, she thought she might be too panicked to come again, but the familiar flush of heat began building as Mike pounded at the door. "Connie, the door's locked. Are you all right?"
He wore wing tips, she thought, and respectable striped tied and three-piece suits. And several months ago, before he'd been made her boss, he'd asked her out repeatedly. She'd refused politely every time.
They had nothing in common, she'd explained, but he'd always countered with a new strategy. "There's always a Plan B," he'd told her, and a day or two later, he'd ask her out again.
How in God's name could she explain this? And how had Master known to call Mike?
And then she was coming again, unable to keep from groaning as the pounding at the door grew more frenzied. "Connie!"
"I'm here," she called back weakly. Her throat was so dry that she could barely talk. "I'm all right."
"There's a padlock on the door. I'll call the police and tell them to bring a bolt-cutter," Mike said. He sounded much calmer.
"No!" God, she thought, no cops. "I know the combination. It's...." Her mind went blank, then she heard Master's voice, remembered the slap of the paddle on her bare skin. "It's 6, 17, 43, 5."
