Nine 4

A note from AfterDusk:

This story is a submission for the Valentine's Day Contest--please read and vote if you like! Thanks!

-AD

Wednesday, February 14th

It was a Wednesday at 7:04 pm and I was already feeling the buzz of alcohol in my veins; I will never forget that moment as it was the one that changed my life permanently. The bartender, some douche frat boy, came over with a large pint of dark beer. When he set it in front of me, I looked up.

"I didn't order this," I managed to say without slurring my words.

He shrugged with a smirk on his fake tanned face, "Compliments of the hot blonde over there. Looks like you won't be spending Valentine's Day alone after all."

I turned my head in the direction he had pointed, my eyes skimming past the happy couples enjoying their romantic dinners, holding hands, being so affectionate it was enough to make a single man puke—then, I laid eyes on her for the first time. She was sitting alone at a high top, a seemingly shy smile on her face when she caught me staring; long blonde hair flowed down past her shoulders, a stunningly low cut top showed her ample cleavage, a pint held tightly in her two small hands.

No way,

I thought,

I am never this lucky

. But little did I know that luck didn't have anything to do with it—she was out on the prowl, looking for a lone man, hunting like a predator.

After tossing back the dregs of my fourth—or fifth?—beer, I picked up the one she had so graciously sent to me. It took some doing despite the experience I had at functioning while drunk but I managed to not spill a drop while I walked over to her table. "Mind if I join you?" I asked politely, putting on my best crooked GQ smile.

I swear, I thought she blushed, "I'd like that."

Beyond that, the rest of our time in the bar was a blur. I tried to focus through my intoxication but it was all I could do to keep my eyes off of her tits and on her face. She wasn't anything particularly special, definitely not a ten but not a butterface either, just a forgettable blonde with a great rack.

When her cheeks turned red again and she stared down into the bottom of her empty pint, I heard her voice come out softly, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I just want a man of my own, one to love and take care of. I know how ridiculous that must sound from a complete stranger but if nothing else...maybe you'd like to come home with me tonight?"

Well, I wasn't going to fucking say no, now was I? I reached out and took her hand into mine, giving her my best bedroom eyes, "A gorgeous woman like you shouldn't be alone any night, especially not Valentine's Day. I'd be honored."

She looked up at me and smiled but there was something dark in her eyes—a glint of wickedness, of evil. At that point, I thought it was just the beer; it wouldn't be until later that I found out otherwise.

"Thank you," she said sweetly. "I don't think you're in any condition to drive though, we can take my car—I can drop you back off tomorrow?"

I smiled, "I took a cab here but that sounds great. I'm going to hit the head first and freshen up, I will be right back."

I made my way to the men's room at the back of the bar, stumbling slightly when the door opened quicker than I thought it would. When I got to the urinal, I leaned a hand against the wall while I fished my cock out; looking down at the projectile yellow stream I had to readjust my aim to get it into the basin—that is why I don't drink at home, it would be a fucking mess all the damn time.

"Looks like you're going to get some action, little buddy," I said cheerfully down to my lower brain; he most definitely had the reins tonight because I was three sheets to the wind, fuck maybe even four sheets after that last beer. I shook it off, tucking it back into my pants before thoroughly washing my hands and splashing water over my drunk face. I made half an effort to fix my disheveled hair before shrugging and walking out of the bathroom.

I closed my tab with the bartender, giving him a fairly large tip despite the ridiculous thumbs up he gave me when the woman wasn't looking. As I signed the bill, I realized that I couldn't remember her name—fuck, did she even tell me? As she was putting on her coat back at the table, I leaned over to frat douche, "Dude, I can't remember her name...can you tell me what it says on her credit slip?"

He grinned like an idiot before pulling it up, "Yeah man...her name is Emily Adams."

"Emily," I repeated. I mouthed a thank you before turning to her as she walked up.

Shyly, she smiled and led the way out of the bar with me in tow. Even with the refreshing cool night air on my face, my mind was still clouded with alcohol; thankfully, her car was only a block off. I climbed into the passenger's seat, buckling the belt before I jokingly said, "You're not like, a serial killer or anything, are you? Am I going to end up in pieces in your trunk?"

When she casted a blank look at me before backing the car out of the spot, her words jarred my playfulness down a notch, "Do you really expect me to tell you if I am?"

"I—I was kidding," I stammered out, suddenly having second thoughts.

"So was I," she replied with a smirk though the expression did little to calm me; gone were the shy smiles and hesitant eye contact from earlier. Even the tone of her voice hinted at something dark.

I tried to lighten the mood, if not for our implied fucking to come then for the awkward drive to her house, "So, Emily, what do you do for a living?"

As she drove, she glanced at me sideways, "Did I tell you my name was Emily?"

Oh fuck, that's what the bartender said, right? I was struggling to remember. Sheepishly, I confessed, "I couldn't actually recall so I had the bartender tell me what the name was on your slip."

I thought I had ruined my chances until she let out a soft chuckle, "That was very resourceful of you."

We made small talk for the remainder of the drive, which was a lot longer than I had thought it would be, maybe half an hour or more. There were so many twists and turns that I was thoroughly lost by the time we arrived at her house; she lived at the end of a cul-de-sac, the lots on either side appeared to have at one time been occupied by homes but those were long gone, giving hers a rather segregated feel, almost ominous.

She pulled the car into the garage, quickly shutting the door and cutting the lights to leave us in darkness, save the dim illumination of the dash clock. I heard her move before I felt her hand on my thigh, slowly sliding inward. I was shocked, I would have never guessed she'd be this direct with her intentions but then again, she

did

ask me to come home with her. When her small hand nestled between my legs and brushed up against my dick, I started getting hard.

Using the small amount of light I turned towards her, my hand reached out to cup her cheek. I leaned in and slowly pressed a kiss into her bright red lips. She melted into my mouth, parting willingly to let my tongue slide in; I tasted her, the faded essence of her vanilla stout mingling with the remnants of the lager that lingered in my mouth, creating a flavor unique to the moment.

Her fingers started to slowly stroke my hard length through my jeans; it was uncomfortable but hot as hell. I didn't want to be too forward, I wanted her to dictate just how far and how fast we would go but I intentionally let my hand slip from her cheek to her neck, trailing delicately across the exposed flesh of her bosom before grazing the front; I felt the hardness of her nipple perking up against the attention right as I removed my hand and placed it gently on her thigh.

She pulled back, her voice soft but commanding, "Let's take this inside."

I smirked in the dim light, "I'd like that."

I got out of the car and stood in the dark garage, waiting for her to make her way around and turn on a light; instead, I felt her hand grasp mine and she pulled me over to the door leading to the house. Had I been sober (or at least less horny) it would have bothered me—it

should

have bothered me—that not only did I not know where in town she had taken me, I also never saw any part of her house. I followed her, completely blind, as she took me up the stairs and across a landing before opening another door. It was only once we reached the bedroom that she flicked on a small lamp on a nightstand next to a king size bed.

When they say guys think with their dicks, it's a lie...at least when our dicks are soft. When they are hard, I can say for fucking certain that all of the blood leaves our brain to accommodate our primal need to fuck a wet hole, rendering us incapable of higher cognition. Normally I'm a pretty perceptive guy but mix in alcohol with the prospects of a long awaited and needed fuck and my focus is singular. We stood next to the bed and I had to lean down to kiss her soft lips; I felt the cool air hit my skin only to realize that she had unbuttoned my shirt and started to push it off of my torso. I let her do the work, because honestly, its much hotter for a chick to undress a man than a man to seem overly eager and do it himself. By the time she was working on my belt buckle, I hoped that her assertiveness would translate into her riding me from above.

Before I knew it she had me stripped down to my boxers; she placed her hand in the middle of my chest and pushed me down onto the bed. My balance was shit and I toppled like a tree, no sooner than hitting the comforter did I feel her face pressed into my crotch, rubbing up against my erection. Her warm breath seeped through the thin fabric before she pulled the waist band down and let my little buddy loose.

My cock sprung up at attention, partially covered in precum but it didn't seem to matter to her—she wrapped those bright red lips around the tip. I moaned out when I felt her tongue teasing me; she made eye contact and I watched her as she slowly took more of my length into her mouth, burying it deep.

"Fuck," I huffed, watching her work up and down my dick. I was trying my hardest hold back but when she started sucking and cupped my balls, I was done for, "You'd better slow down if you want me to last."

There was a wicked glint in her eyes as her speed increased—it was clear she wanted me to unload into her mouth. I groaned out, grasping the comforter in both hands when my balls clenched up; keeping our eyes locked on each other's, she watched as my face contorted, my hips bucked and I came. I cried out, my legs trembling, sweat forming on my skin while the echoes of a good come drifted through my body; she didn't cease her attack until my limbs started to involuntarily twitch—only then did she slow her pace to a halt, simply gently sucking on my softening cock, swallowing down my spent offering.

She finally pulled back, a smirk on her lipstick smudged lips, "Now that we got that out of the way, I'll give you a moment to recover before the main event. I'm going into the bathroom to freshen up."

I watched her walk away in amazement, shocked that I could have found such a depraved single woman on Valentine's Day. Things were starting to look up for me, it seemed. I scooted back onto the bed so that I was laying properly in the middle, my head rested on the pillows. She flicked on the bathroom light across the room, glancing at me before she shut the door behind her.

I was good and sated, drunk to boot so of course I started to drift off to sleep. I had no idea how long she was in there but in that hazy realm of half consciousness, I swear I heard her talking to herself. I couldn't make out most of the words nor did I care but the one that stuck out most prevalently in my mind was

Eight.

I felt my body heat up and I jerked awake; looking down I discovered her kneeling between my legs. She had managed to get my boxers off at some point and she had my dick in her two small hands. She stroked it teasingly, her eyes locked on mine.

"Hi," I said in the stupidest way because I couldn't think of what else to open with.

"Hi," she replied back, a cheeky smile on her lips.

When I was able to focus enough beyond watching her play with my dick, I saw that she had changed out of her clothes; all she was wearing now was a bright red pair of lace panties and a red lace teddy that was closed by a perfect bow tucked beneath her large breasts.

"You look amazing," I said and I fucking meant it.

"Thank you," she purred before bending down.

I watched when she once again took my dick into her mouth; as she worked the shaft I moaned. Part of me thought that maybe I should be returning in kind but it felt so good to have a woman focused on simply pleasing me for a change. When the tip of my cock entered her throat I groaned out, doing my best to restrain from grabbing her face and fucking it like I wanted to.

After an amazing eternity of feeling her mouth, I was pretty close again. She seemed to sense it and withdrew completely, wrapping her fingers around my balls; I jerked in surprise when she pulled pretty hard, catching me off guard.

"I'm not done with you yet," she growled.

I was wide eyed with shock, about to give her a piece of my mind for damaging the equipment but she crawled up my body, her feet on either side of my hips as she squatted over me. She grabbed my cock and aimed it at her slit before rubbing it back and forth; I felt the wetness of her smooth flesh through the opening of her crotchless panties. Bracing herself with a hand on my chest, she lowered her ass down and took my entire cock in one long, slow movement.

"Ohhh," she breathed out. Her cunt was sopping wet, hot and tightly wrapped around me. Placing her other hand near the one on my chest, her eyes bore into mine as she raised her hips upwards. My cock slid almost entirely out of her before she dropped her ass down swiftly, burying it again.

"Fuck," I panted out. While she continued to slowly pound against me, I reached forward and tugged on the string of her teddy, undoing the bow to allow her large breasts freedom from their confinement. I watched them sway briefly before cupping them with my hands. They were soft and plentiful; she seemed to enjoy it when my fingers grazed her nipples and I was more than happy to oblige. When I pinched them slightly, she mewled out—the tone of her voice, the dark, needy undercurrent it carried sent a shudder down my spine.

Her pace increased and she began to bounce up and down wantonly in my lap. I probably should have been more engaged in fucking her but I had just enough alcohol left buzzing in me that my gumption to return the favor was limited; plus, embarrassingly, all I could do was watch as I was so enthralled by her bobbing tits, her mewls, her frantic breathing, the sopping, squishing sound her cunt made as her hips rose and fell in my lap. It had been too long since I last fucked a woman—or had a woman fuck me, rather—close to a year perhaps. I mean, I'm not terrible to look at, averagely handsome I suppose, pickings were just slim lately.

Needless to say despite her amazing blow job earlier I was no match for the feeling of a hot wet cunt; my legs began to tense and my balls cinched upwards to my body. I shocked her with a few quick thrusts upwards on her downward ones before I reached for her hips and slammed her ass down into my lap while pushing hard into her; I moaned out, my face contorted and I clenched my eyes shut as my cock erupted into her pussy. I held her there for a few moments before I dared to open my eyes—she looked pissed.

All I could do was offer her a sheepish smile and pull her shoulders forward, tipping her body down onto mine so I didn't have to absorb her death glare any longer. I wrapped my arms around her back, hovering in the fog of pleasure and alcohol. In a matter of seconds, I fell fast asleep.

Thursday, February 15th

My head was pounding and my back hurt. I didn't want to wake up but I was so fucking uncomfortable I had no choice; as I stirred I felt a fuzzy rug below me and cold tile on my feet. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times before everything focused.

"Morning sleepy head," she said cheerfully. She handed me a large glass of water and two aspirins. I sat up, popped the pills and took a sip of water. She frowned, "You should drink all of the water. You need to hydrate."

I offered a weak smile of concession and downed the rest of the liquid, "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," she replied with a gentle smile, "I wasn't sure how long you were going to sleep."

"Shit," I murmured, "I'm late for work." I rubbed my eyes, pulling my legs up so I could stand. I heard the clanking of metal on metal—and that is when I saw it. I stared in disbelief at my left ankle; a thick three inch cuff was padlocked onto it, a chain extending to a massive industrial eyelet bolted into the floor. "What the fuck is this?!" I shrieked. I tried to calm down, maybe it was a prank, "That's—that's very funny now get this shit off of my leg."

Her smile slowly faded to nothing, her blank face staring at me, the hint of darkness in her otherwise soft green eyes, "We talked about this, Nine."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, scooting away from her. I reached down for the padlock on the cuff and gave it a tug—nothing happened.

"Last night at the bar," she continued while watching me, "you told me that you had never had a woman who loved you enough to take care of you. I said that all I wanted was a man of my own to make me happy."

"And you took that to mean I wanted to be fucking chained up in your bathroom?!" I stood up, only realizing for the first time that I was stark naked. Even though she intimately knew my cock, I covered it up with my hands, "Let—me—go!"

She rose to her feet, face still blank, "I am afraid that isn't going to happen, Nine. Now why don't you stop being so ungrateful and take a shower—"

I cut her off by grabbing her throat and slamming her back into the wall; though her head hit it with a thunk, it barely dazed her. I was pissed now, so angry I was shaking. I threatened her, "Either let me go or I will fucking kill you."

After blinking twice, she forced a choked whisper out, "If you kill me, you'll never get out of here. The key to your cuff is downstairs—who do you think will get it if I'm dead?"

You have to admit, she had a point. Reluctantly, I let her go. This woman was fucking nuts, it was obvious—I'd either have to get a message to someone or play along until she made a mistake and trusted me, "I'm supposed to be at work, they will know I'm missing."

She rubbed her throat tenderly, stepping away from me and towards the bathroom door, "I sent an email to your boss explaining that you came down with the flu and will be out for the rest of the week." When I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to ask, she spoke before I could, "You still have thumbs when you're passed out. People seem to forget that fingerprint identification only works as security if they aren't near their phone. Now, as I was saying, why don't you take a shower? I will make us some breakfast."

She gave me one last cold look before walking out of the bathroom. I stood there for quite a while, simply staring at the chain; I tugged on it a few times but it was extremely thick and I knew there was no way I stood a chance of breaking it. My only options for escape were get the key for the padlock or cut my foot off and I sure as shit wasn't cutting my foot off...I liked it. I had a matching set.

I noticed after a few minutes that the chain was extremely long; the massive industrial eyebolt in the floor had four different colored padlocks clasped around it, each one securing a length of chain to it. After testing it out, I discovered that I had enough slack to access anything in the bathroom—the sink, the shower, the toilet—but nothing else. I'd spend the rest of my life in here unless I managed to get another padlock open...and that is when I realized what she had done. While she gave me free reign of the bathroom, it became clear that if I wanted more privileges, they'd have to be earned—if I behaved, a padlock would be opened and I would have a wider cell.