Chapter 3: Chains and Chopsticks
Ruslan awoke to the sound of clinking metal and heavy breathing. His lids shot open and he bolted awake, instantly wishing he hadn't woken at all. His biceps felt like they were near tearing, his shoulders were only another inch from dislocating.
Somehow, during his restless sleep, his aunt had chained him in the bathtub. He was on his back still, and his limbs were cuffed, but there was something holding them all together. His arms were bound tight, and after testing his legs he found them to be just as restrained. He could wiggle his body around a little in the tub, but not enough to budge his bondage.
"Tight?" His aunt's husky voice startled him, the room was dark and she was sitting on the stool, nearly invisible. "I used the chain the gardener keeps for blocking off the pathways. There wasn't a lot of it so I had to make it really tight."
Ruslans eyes strained, there was a dark square shape in her bare lap, something he didn't want her to have.
Snap
.
The flash went off, searing his retinas and throwing the dark room into a strange echo of dark red and throbbing blue-white. "A memory," she explained, setting the camera down with a click on the counter. The stool scraped back as she stood and padded over to him. She stepped into the tub with him, sinking her naked body down against him, like a heavy blanket.
"We're going to have some more fun," she whispered, her lips tasting his earlobe. "The more you move, the more it's going to hurt."
And then her lips widened and wetly closed around his entire ear, her tongue slithered out along his cartilage, flaring up the left side of his body with familiar electricity.
"More fun, like before?" He asked as she feasted on his ear. He felt her smile against his skin,
"No." She nibbled, "Better."
She rose up from his ear and reached behind her head to the bun of hair that glinted dully in the light. His eyes were still afflicted with spots of black and he couldn't see that she removed a long silver chopstick.
Great waterfalls of softness fell across her shoulders and tickled her nipples ever so lightly. "I'm going to turn a light on so you can see what I'm doing," she said, stepping from the tub and flicking on a lamp that was unwisely placed above the tub on a narrow ledge.
When the light caught the polished chopstick Ruslans mind was washed with confusion. She had fingered his ass already, and her finger was much larger than that chopstick...
How would that make any sense?
Jeri stayed outside the tub and got to her knees and knelt over the tub with the porcelain lip propping up her breasts.
"I know you don't know what this is for," she bragged, scraping the narrow tip along the ripples of his abs. He shook his head.
The tip scraped slowly downwards, bending his short pubic hairs and tickling him as it moved. Then it stopped, just above where his penis started to form from his pelvis. She pressed down and watched as the flesh tugged towards that sharp point, the movement of flesh flopped his lengthy cock from one side to the other.
It instinctively began to throb, rising up slowly like a mechanic's jack.
Jeri spoke, "This will only work if you're really, really hard. So I'm going to rub you a little."
"Use your mouth," Ruslan requested, "Please."
Jeri grinned, "My mouth?" she repeated, "Okay. But only because this next part isn't going to be much fun." Then she added, "For you, anyways."
