The Storage Locker Ch 01

The conversation in the cab on our way out the highway was sparse and tense. We discussed our projects, trying to joke through the obvious awkwardness, but my typical free-flowing chatter abandoned me as it always does when I'm hopelessly attracted to a person. I kept looking over at James' face as he drove the truck and catching him looking over at me. It should have been a scene from an adolescent romantic comedy. I fell silent, allowing myself to take glimpses of James' long arms and thighs as he deftly shifted gears. I've always been a sucker for a man who drives a standard.

We arrived at the storage facility and James asked me to hop out and direct him to back the truck up to the storage locker. Standing in behind the truck I could see his eyes on me in the side mirror, not just watching my hand waving but hungrily devouring the view. When the truck was in position, he hopped out and walked back towards me, passing within a foot of me as he unlocked the storage garage door and pushed it open. The garage was empty, save for some boxes stacked in the back corner, and a variety of lumber planks leaning against the wall beside them. The dim light didn't reveal much. Opening the back of the truck, I saw more lumber and boxes. I hopped up into the truck and began passing boxes down. Naturally I was aware that every time I leaned over, James got a good glance down my shirt which was damp with sweat.

When we finished unloading the truck, James asked me to come and help him move some boxes around inside the locker. We closed the truck and the locker door to keep in the garage-like cool. An overhead fluorescent light cast a dim glow over the piles of boxes and lumber. James explained that he wanted the boxes stacked up against the side wall to clear the back wall so we got to work. After a while I grew warm from the work and I was acutely aware that my soft sports bra was doing a pathetic job of hiding my nipples, which tend to get a little feisty. The fact wasn't lost on James either from the obvious stares I intercepted as we passed each other.

As I slid the last box into place, I stepped back and stumbled over a loosely curled carpet on the floor. James stepped quickly behind me, instinctively catching me as I lost my balance. He was a good head taller than me and well-toned from summer training. We paused for a moment and then I felt the heat of James' arms around my back and his hand... his hand was cupping my breast! Before I had a chance to register this fully, James pulled me back to my feet and then we were pressed together against the stack of boxes. His hand stayed put, and I looked down at it and then up at his face. He was staring at me, doing a crappy job of hiding his desire. Impulsively I pressed closer to him, tipping my face upwards. That was the death knell of restraint; James' lips seared mine in a mind-clearing kiss.

Our hands explored each other's backs and sides, trying to stay innocent but growing gradually more ardent. Finally my hands slid under his shirt around his waist and the touch of our skin practically lit the storage locker on fire.

James swept an arm under me and lifted me to sitting on the nearest stack of boxes. This positioned me so I could wrap my legs around him, lending me the fortune to feel the rather impressive bulge inside his soft-from-wear jeans. I'd had fantasies of this but the reality was making my heart pound and my pussy throb. He wielded some kind of strange power over me that made it impossible to listen to the rational part of my brain. I just wanted more, but I also felt a compulsion to follow his lead.

His hands slipped down my ribs and then back up as he stood in front of me; back up INSIDE my shirt and up over my head, taking my shirt with them. He looked darkly for a moment at my sports bra and then up into my eyes commandingly. Instinctively I responded, peeling the sports bra off in one quick motion. Breathing hard, staring at him taking in my bare skin with his eyes, I shivered slightly in the cool air. My hard nipples reddened as he watched me. He bent to take one in his warm mouth, licking, tasting and sucking gently. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, relaxing my back into an arch as he held me close to him. Inside I felt the breaking down of walls so carefully built to protect me from this moment of abandon.

As I arched my back, I pushed my pussy forward, grinding into his hips. I knew what was there and I wanted it. James groaned with his mouth on my nipple, then pushed me further back so I was lying down across the stack of boxes. He lowered his mouth onto my stomach and breathed a soft trail of kisses to the top of my shorts. I closed my eyes and burned inwardly as he deftly unbuttoned the waistband and pushed it aside, revealing the innocently pink cotton briefs that were soaked with sweat and more. His hand rose from my hips to press on my mound for a moment, then in the next moment the charged atmosphere rippled and I felt his hands move again.

This time, he lifted me with surprising strength off the boxes and turned me swiftly over so that I bent forward, my ass in the air against his groin. He leaned over me, his wet t-shirt sending ripples of electricity through my bare back. Right in my ear he growled, "that's enough of the games, my dear" and my eyes shot open. He had one of my hands pressed against my back tightly, just at the edge of pain, and he grasped the other hand and pulled it up over my head.

"What!?" I exclaimed, shocked at the turn of situation but also reeling from the frisson of desire that had sprung from a deep well inside of me. I'd never been treated so roughly like this, the rough cardboard of the boxes pressing against my bare breasts where so recently there had been tender caresses and kisses.

"You've been playing with fire for weeks and now you're going to find out how hot it can get," James murmured again, his chest pressing against my back as I gasped for air. Inside those pink cotton briefs I was alarmed to feel a flood of wetness, while my knees seemed to be about to give up the pretence of standing.

My shorts came whipping off more quickly than I could have imagined possible, and James' feet moved quickly to spread my feet apart as I squealed in protest. James lifted the arm that had been pinned against my back upwards so he was holding both wrists in one of his powerful hands. Then I got the biggest shocker... as I looked to one side trying to catch a glimpse of this happy-go-lucky fellow I'd been harmlessly flirting with, I saw him use his free hand to flip open the lid of a box next to me and quickly pull out a coil of rope. What the FUCK? I thought to myself. It occurred to me that this would be an excellent time to begin panicking, but something about James' chilly calm manner informed me I'd be better off keeping my head about me. Maybe I could still talk my way out of this.

"What is going ON, James? Let me GO! I don't like this!" I pleaded.

"Don't kid me. This is exactly what you like," James laughed. "This is your lucky day."

My blood ran cold. Generally in the scheme of things, I talk a good game but James had taken our conversation way out of context. I wasn't sure I was ready to fill in the blanks on my limited kink experience, and I certainly hadn't imagined my initiation would take place in a storage locker. But my instinct to fight back froze inside me and I complied numbly as James tied my wrists together over my head, then roughly spun me around so I faced him. A shadow from the light fixture fell over his face so I couldn't see his eyes, but his mouth was set in determination. An answering determination seemed to shoot through me, upwards from my pussy which seemed to have turned traitor.

That mouth surprised the hell out of me as it came quickly down on mine, crushing me and at the same time caressing me again. Confused, I began to kiss him back but he pulled away. "This isn't your show, baby. It's NOT all about you." He swung my arms downward and I fell forward against him, down onto my knees. He caught me with one hand on my shoulder while the other hand unzipped his own jeans. A small smirk about persons going commando was quickly wiped off my face as his teeming cock fell out from its imprisonment, right in front of my eyes.

"As good a place as any to start your training," James chuckled. A hand on the back of my head guided me towards his cock and I had no choice but to open and take his impressive erection into my mouth. He steadied me with a hand as I began working my mouth up and down his penis, realizing as I did so that the script was definitely under his supervision. A quick debate with my inner security guard convinced me to play along for a while longer because after all, hadn't I wanted to see what was inside those tightly molded jeans for quite some time?

I settled in to enjoy myself, obediently kneeling before the person of my desire. His cock was beautifully formed, well-proportioned in thickness and length. Again I was just beginning to relax when James shifted the game again, this time by gripping the hair at the back of my neck and pulling himself away.

"Enough!" he growled. "We'll explore that talent further at a later date." He pushed me backwards against the boxes and I felt awkwardly to one side. As I pulled myself back to sitting up and brought my knees under me again to stand, James crossed the storage locker and grabbed a piece of lumber which I hadn't previously noticed was actually a high sawhorse with a leather-wrapped crossbar. He set it down in front of me and looked hard at me.

"This is not the sort of thing you were expecting, I'm sure," he said, somewhat thoughtfully. "But it's what you need if you're going to learn to really play the way you seem to think you want to." I realized that he'd probably picked up on a lot more of my innuendo and flip remarks about my casual interest in BDSM than I'd been aware of. More importantly, I also realized that my attraction to James had always been slightly tinted with an awareness of his dominant personality. He had always had the ability to ask me to do things - simple things even - and get my compliance without argument. Why else would I have volunteered to shift boxes and lumber in a storage locker in the middle of a hot summer day?

My pause to contemplate the situation gave James the extra time he needed to kick the sawhorse legs open. He then reached forwards and grasped my tied hands, pulling me up and over the sawhorse. The rough wood of the sides scratched the bare skin of my thighs and I squirmed. The leather crossbar hit me right at hip level, thrusting my ass out into the air. James held my wrists with one hand, then picked up a carabiner, attached to a rope which was tied to an eye-hook at the base of the sawhorse. He quickly fastened the carabiner to the rope tying my wrists. This pulled me forward so I was bent over, my pussy lips exposed in the dim rays of fluorescent light. I tried to shift sideways to get out of the situation, but James anticipated my move and I felt straps go around my ankles. Ducking my head down, I could see that the straps were fastened to the other set of legs on the sawhorse. Shit.

Then there was silence. A rather ominous silence. I could feel James' eyes on my nether regions and I blushed. The blush seemed to reach all the way down to my pussy except there it was a flush of moistness rather than a charming facial tint. James stepped carefully around me and I looked around, trying to keep my eyes on him.

"You won't need to watch this, my dear."

"What? What are you DOING?" I struggled a little, pulling my hands towards me and kicking with one foot. It was pointless - this little restraint had been well conceived and, more seriously, the sawhorse seemed to be made the right size for a person my height, as if this scenario had the benefit of advance planning.

As I struggled fruitlessly, James opened the box that had held the rope and pulled out a length of black cloth. This formed a blindfold which he put in place with careful, adept hands. Through the dark cloth I couldn't make out anything, not even the outline of my own legs or the floor, so I grew still and tried to feel his location through the change in air temperature around my naked body. There was some rustling near the boxes and then silence again.

Suddenly the air exploded behind me with a crack and a sear of pain shot across my buttocks. I cried out in shock and anger more than hurt, and kicked both of my legs without effect. I struggled to catch my breath as a sense of panic flew up my spine into that part of the mind they call the lizard brain. Just after, I felt a cool, smooth object set itself down over the place I'd been hit. It lingered just long enough to soothe the shocked skin and then was taken away. His voice calmed the panic and brought me back into the real world.

"I hate to wake you up so suddenly, my dear, but I needed your full attention." Anger flashed into my mind - who did he think he was messing with? - but then his hands spread themselves over my buttocks and back - my traitorous, highly erogenous back - and my mind returned from the brink. A flood of endorphins kicked in, replacing the shock of the pain with a promising buzz of well-being as his hands deftly massaged my back, sides and hamstrings. I was just about to the point of purring when his bare hand struck me lightly, just enough to bring me back from happyland.

"This is going to be a challenge for you," came James' voice from just beside my ear. "I'm going to keep you ungagged" - WHAT THE FUCK? - "but you must be a good girl and speak only when asked a direct question. I much prefer hearing your whimpers to binding you up in silence. And I think you can exercise that much self-control." Oh good news, I thought sarcastically.

James began spanking me firmly, not hard but rhythmically. He was careful to avoid contacting my pussy lips which were clearly evident and (I'm sure) glistening with wanton desire. For all that my rational brain seemed to have a problem with the afternoon's events, my body was certainly not complaining. My nipples were hard and I could feel my clit pounding with anticipation. This didn't go unnoticed and James tapped me lightly with two fingers right across the labia. "This is a good sign, but be careful not to get too worked up. You've got a lot to do to prove to me you deserve to come. We'll save that for later." James stepped back then and I felt a chill as I lost physical contact with him. I felt suddenly alone and scared. Then I heard a slight humming in his sonorous voice, an almost amused tone as he assessed his handiwork, my ass cheeks blazing red and my head hanging down in despondence.

Another rustling at the boxes alerted my mind to incoming surprises and I was not mistaken. This time, James' strong hand lifted my shoulders slightly and he said, "stay just like that." I had to use my ab muscles to hold my chest up, and then James reached forward and fastened a clip onto one of my nipples. It pinched quickly and then a flood of heat rushed to the area, replacing the pain with a sensation of drugged euphoria. The other nipple was treated to the same benefit and as I held myself up, I heard a scraping of wood against the floor. James had brought over another wooden construction with a padded cross-bar and allowed me to settle my shoulders onto it, releasing some of the tension in my lower back.

"Now, let's do some training of your self-control. I'm going to touch you and play with you but under no circumstances are you to come." The possibility of orgasm hadn't really entered my mind until he said those words, but they planted a seed in my brain that sent a message quickly to my clit which began pounding again. James was no help at all with the self-control of course, because the next thing I knew he was kneading my mound with his strong, warm hand and I went liquid inside. The desire to feel the wave of orgasm crash over me was killing me, it seemed, but at the same time I felt a strong need to please James. He'd invested so much in this scene as it turned out, and I realized I didn't want this to be the last time we played.

I began playing scenes in my head of the least sexy things I could imagine. American Baseball. Taking out the garbage. Phone books. James retrieved another toy from his box of surprises; this time it was a rather dramatically powerful vibrator. He applied this to my pussy and I practically leaped out of my skin. Stretched over two sawhorses, my skin burning from the spanking and my brain reeling from the psych-fuck of the past hour, I strained with all my willpower to fight the coming storm. I felt my pussy lips dripping with my juices and I whimpered and cried quietly as I struggled to control myself.

"You're so hot right now, you know?" James called to me over the drone of the vibrator. "I'm going to fuck you and own you right inside your hot cunt, because I know that'll drive you wild." He put aside the vibrator and stood behind me. I felt his pulsing cock slide into me and then he was fucking me, filling my whole body it seemed, as the sensations built like a vicious crescendo.

"Please! Please! Please!" I gasped, then cried. Tears rolled down my face as I reeled from the pleasure of his wild fucking and the endorphins racing through my body from the nipple clamps, still in place and rocking back and forth as the rhythmic thrusting shook my tits. "Please oh god please may I come?" I begged.

James stopped thrusting and pulled out. The loss of fullness nearly killed me, left me feeling open and lost and empty. My pussy felt like an open chasm, exposed and raw. I panted, nearly hyperventilating. He replaced his cock with a large dildo driving up inside me and put the vibrator back on my clit. My brain felt like it was falling apart and my tears escaped the blindfold and dripped onto the polished concrete floor below.

It seemed I'd been tortured like this forever when finally I heard him whisper in my ear "you may come." There was a white-hot surge of exquisite paradise which launched me into some other reality. I left myself behind and rode a wave of heady, all-consuming pleasure.

When I came back to myself, James was stroking my back and saying my name. He had taken off the blindfold and untied my hands and feet, leaving my body resting over the two padded crossbars. My eyes remained clenched shut, as my body returned to equilibrium after its orgasmic excursion.

I felt a hand on my back and I guessed from the pressure that he was sitting down beside me. I felt him take my breast into his hand and hold it there, just with a slight pressure. The nipple clamps had been on this whole time but the sensations elsewhere in my body had distracted me. Now I became aware of the tension there, as he tugged gently on the chain that held the clamps together. "I want you to breathe very deeply now," he said, stroking my breasts with both hands. The tenderness surprised me, and this abrupt change of pace confused me further but I tried to control my breathing and focus on the sensation of his hands. Then he released one of the nipple clamps and I was struck with a sudden stabbing, excruciating pain as the blood flowed back to my nipple. I cried out in agony. His response was to take my nipple slowly into his mouth and suck it calmly, carefully, so the heat from his mouth warmed me and took the edge off the pain. I knew the other one would be coming so I tensed, but again he said "breathe deeply. Slowly." He removed the other clamp and I shrieked, then sobbed as the pain was replaced with warmth. I let the sensations wash over me.

As I opened my eyes, he pulled me up off the sawhorses and into his arms. My legs had were weak and groggy so James picked me up, no easy feat as I was totally floppy and not light at all. He stepped away from the sawhorses to a darker corner where, I saw now, a pile of blankets had been arranged in a small nest. We sat there as he stroked my hair and hummed to me, no tune at all just a soothing murmur. I must have slept for a bit then and perhaps he let me rest alone, wrapped up in blankets. When I woke up the sawhorses were gone and James was dressed in a fresh white t-shirt and another pair of the soft worn blue jeans. My clothes were neatly folded nearby and I put them on, calm but uncertain of what to say. The silence was pretty hard to handle.