Double or Nothing
by T.S. Fesseln
Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depictions of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.
Amanda’s mouth was getting dry. The ring gag the man made her wear kept her mouth open. She could still taste his cum coating her mouth, making her want to retch. She was also drooling, the saliva streaming at the corners of her lips and down over her chest and breasts.
Her crossed legs were still chained to her red leather collar so she was sitting more or less on her tailbone with her puss open for all to see. She was kept sitting by a chain running from her collar to a bolt in the ceiling. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back and the leather bags were still tightened over her hands, forcing them into fists.
The worst part of it all was the wanton itch that still inflamed her sex. The man had only teased her with the vibe, leaving her on the edge with no way of pushing herself over. The prickliness left by the gel only served to focus her attention on her vagina and trying to soothe it.
The door opened back up and the man step inside, shutting the door. He was dressed in a tight-fitting black t-shirt and jeans. He held a riding crop at his side as he approached her.
“I bet you have an itch you just can’t scratch now don’t you, slave 1?”
Amanda gave the Master a scowl.
Ray went over to the dresser and picked up the vibrator he had used earlier and coated it with some more of that infernal gel. Turning it on, he left it resting between her legs, its buzzing tip teasing at her swollen lips.
“Now, slave, I can help you with that if you want or I can just leave you be, letting that itch drive you to the nut house. It’s really up to you.”
Amanda kept staring at him, frowning.
“All you have to do, slave, is ask me to make you cum. I give you permission to. Just show me you want that thing there crammed up inside you and to be fucked with it.”
The humming of the vibrator sent a burst of fuel into her burning coals, sending licks of passion lapping through her. She tried to impale herself onto the phallus, but it was only balanced against her and moved when she did.
“I am giving you 10 seconds slave to make up your mind before I leave this room. One. . .two. . .”
Amanda’s soul was being rent apart. To admit to this man that she wanted it would give him permission to rape her yet she didn’t know if she could go on like this, having an orgasm dangled in front of her like this like a carrot and yet denying it to her. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for that lotion he put between her legs. But now, like this, she didn’t know if she could take it.
“Six. . .seven. . .”
The bound blonde nodded her head and garbled something through the ring of her gag.
“You want me to fuck you, slave?”
Amanda nodded again.
“Say ‘fuck me, master.’”
“Uuck eee, ahhheer,” Amanda implored, her whole being flushed red from shame.
The man grinned as he sat down on the bed beside the girl. She held her head down and some of her blonde curls dangled down to hide her face.
“Look at me, slave,” he said.
Slowly her head came up and her brown eyes met his. There was an erotic sadness about them as she looked at him, he thought. Something had just broke and there would be no way of repairing it.
He picked up the vibe and eased it into her, his cold gray eyes never wavering from hers. He gently pulled the device out only to plunge it back in slowly. Every thrust brought another pang of pleasure. She rocked herself as much as she could to squeeze every bit of bliss out of each push but, he was slow; so very slow.
Amanda whimpered in aggravation. He was doing as he said he would but it was tormenting her more than anything.
Through it all, the man’s eyes remained locked onto hers.
His pace quickened and so did hers as she gyrated and bucked within her bondage. She could smell her own incense as it coated the phallus. She was moaning and panting, trying to get him to move faster.
“I command you to cum, slave,”
Faster and faster he pumped the vibrator into her as her entire being was sundered by a molten ecstasy she had never known before. Passion seared her again and again as she thrashed in her restraints. Finally he pulled the vibe from her and let her fires die down.
“Very good, slave 1,” he said,”Just rest now until dinner. I hope you’ll like what Mistress is cooking up for y’all.”
The man got up and left the room, leaving Amanda panting again, her whole self melting with fatigue.
Ray smiled as he sat back and watched the girls on the monitor. Number 1 hung like a discarded puppet in her bondage. She would struggle a little every now and again, but it was more to find some level of comfort rather than trying to get away. Number 2 struggled quite a bit after Ray had left her, mainly trying to wipe his cum off her face. She had been left in a frogtie and untethered to the bed on which she laid. The blonde could have squirmed off the bed to the floor, but she hadn’t. After trying to wipe off her face on the pillow, she just curled up into a ball and whimpered. She was probably wondering what was next.
He spent some time editing the footage and making sure that he and his wife were unidentifiable. Their client would be getting a good look at the girl’s training.
Janice came in and sat down beside him, pulling her chair close so that she could nestle against him as he worked.
“I cooked something special for the twins,” Jan purred as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“I bet you did,” he smiled.
“They’ll be lapping it as soon as it cools down, Master. It’s in the refrigerator now. In a while, they will have a very intimate dinner in the basement.”
“Number 2 will like that,” Ray said, “She misses her sister.”
They cuddled quietly together as Ray continued to edit the training sessions. Janice liked the way she looked on camera, whether tied down in her husband’s bed or dominating some hapless merchandise squirming at her feet. Janice kept herself in good shape, running every morning. She got to know Ray’s son better on those runs. Though he was quiet, she could read a lot into his body language. Jeffery was quite a bit like his father, with a façade as strong and silent as granite. Janice smiled and kissed her husband’s cheek.
“You know, Master, you haven’t tied me up in awhile.”
“Is that so?” Ray asked, still looking at the tied blonde struggling on the screen.
Janice nuzzled her husband, kissing him behind his ear, “Uh-huh.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, honey, ‘specially since we’re on the job.”
“You can see for yourself that the girls are exhausted, Ray. You tied them so I know they aren’t going anywhere. We have plenty of time before dinner and I think it will do both of us good.”
Ray looked over into his wife’s green eyes, “You know, I might be low on ammo.”
Janice stood up and straddled her husband facing him. She cradled his face in her slender hands and leaned into him. The feel of her warm body against him was breathtaking as she kissed him deeply. Their tongues danced around each other’s as if in an erotic ballet. She pressed herself against him more, rocking her hips as he embraced her tightly.
Janice pulled away looking into her husband’s grey eyes.
“I’ll be in our bedroom getting ready. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting,” she whispered.
She slithered off the chair and slinked out the room, glancing back over her shoulder. Ray’s gaze was still upon her, ignoring the computer screens.
The blonde smiled to herself as she made her way to their bedroom. This was the only place in the house with some resemblance to their private life. The bed matched their bed at home, framed in wrought-iron curly-Qs. It was smaller, however, to fit in the much smaller room. Functionally though, it was the same: it had many places to anchor rope and chain.
Janice unbuttoned her blouse and let it slip down her arms. Carefully, she hung it in the closet. Her calf-high boots came next. After placing the boots where they belonged, she shimmied out of her jeans and hung them in the closet as well. All that covered her was a tiny black thong and soon that was gone as well.
Thoughts of divine helplessness always coursed through Janice’s mind when they were ‘collecting merchandise.’ Even before, when she was a lowly ‘talent scout’ looking and researching the ‘merchandise’ before a pick-up, she enjoyed the fantasies of rope and leather. She always preferred be tied than doing the tying. In some ways, she thought of herself as Ray’s personal piece of merchandise, a slave whom was blessed to be part of her husband’s life. The emotional chains were the ones that held her the tightest.
In the small, old-fashioned trunk at the foot of the bed rested their personal toys; the ones they only used with each other. She opened up the lid and enjoyed the leather perfume that arose out of it. She carefully selected a few choice items. The first was a polished brass collar. It was an antique that Ray had purchased specifically for her. It was dated from the turn of the century, and by the markings she knew it came from Doctor Brand’s personal foundry. The hasp was a complicated mechanism that could only be unlocked by a needle-like key. The collar was always stored unlocked because Ray kept the only key. With a soft click, it encircled her slender throat.
The dark maroon leather cuffs were next, a pair for her wrists and a pair for her ankles. These had gleaming brass fittings and matched her collar perfectly. She tightly fastened one around each ankle and wrist, making sure she couldn’t slip out of them. The black leather pear gag was next, custom made to fill her mouth completely. After making sure that it was buckled as stringently as possible, she carefully locked her left wrist to her left ankle and then her right wrist to her right ankle with two small padlocks. It was a difficult task but she had learned to do many things with one hand. Now she was helpless until her husband decided to free her.
Ray waited. He knew what his wife was up to and he knew she would relish her self-imposed helplessness. He smiled, thinking to himself about just how well they knew each other. They hadn’t been married long yet it seemed that they were like a perfectly machined lock and key, unlocking each other physically, emotionally and intellectually. He was more with her than he could ever be without her. His first marriage was a whisper in a storm by comparison.
After checking on the girls one last time, he made his way toward their bedroom. Opening the door, he stood and grinned at her helpless form laying in wait for him. Her green-eyes sparkled as she opened her knees wide, exposing the moistened petals of her puss. She writhed in her bondage suggestively, moaning into her gag.
He loved that she was wearing her brass collar. It meant more to them then their wedding rings. It meant that she was his completely and she wanted it that way. He quickly stripped and stood beside the bed. Janice was glad to see that his gun was fully erect and ready for action.
“Do you want some of this?” Ray asked.
Janice nodded her head and mewled into her gag.
“I bet you do,” he grinned, watching her squirm for his pleasure.
His wife moaned her displeasure as he turned away from her and rooted through their trunk. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of nipple clamps, which he flung onto her stomach. Next, two lengths of brass plated chain, each about two feet in length and having a ‘D’ clip on each end. Last was a tube of the ‘magic’ lotion. Janice absolutely loathed and adored the stuff. Its appearance meant she would be in for a long session, not at all what she was planning on but not unwelcome.
Ray leaned over his wife and attached one length of chain to her left ankle and wrist cuffs, before doing the same to the right pair. Taking the other end of the chain, he pulled her leg up and latched it to the right top corner of the headboard. Without a word, he pulled up her left ankle and anchored it to the left top corner. This spread her legs wide and kept them there despite her struggles.
The cloverleaf nipple clamps were clamped on next. Ray gently pinched one of her erect nipples, sending a fountain of blissfully searing sparks of pleasure spilling through Janice, pulling it upward and setting the clamp on it. The near pain of the clamp only caused her fires to burn hotter. He did the same to the other one, doubling the joyful pain she felt.
Janice was relishing in her sensations so much that she didn’t see Ray get out a small spool of twine and cut off two lengths. It was only when she felt the jostling of her clamps that she opened her eyes and watched her husband tie off some twine to both clamps then, pulling on her already sore nips, tying the other ends off to each of her big toes. Every jiggle her captive feet made would transmit down the taut twine and pull on her poor nipples.
Janice’s eyes then locked onto tube of ointment. He put a generous dollop onto his fingertips and then massaged it into her slippery slit. His fingers worked their magic, sending rushes of fiery passion deep within her. It wasn’t just his fingers though; the salve almost immediately began its prickly tickling, making her thrust herself up the best she could to try to impale herself on his digits.
A moan of dismay erupted from the blonde as Ray pulled away his fingers. He was sure now that he had massaged the lotion in and it was driving his wife insane. She screamed more when he traced a line above her sex: no cumming.
“Now, you want to be a good lil’ slave to me, don’t you, darlin’?” Ray asked.
Janice nodded her head briskly while she writhed in her restraints.
“I think there’s going to be a change in the menu tonight, my slave, and I’ll betcha that you’re going to just love it.”
End of chapter 8
Copyright© 2012 Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at FESSELN1@aol.com. Or visit his weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ . It is usually a long time between postings for my stories. In the past, I have tried to compile a mailing list, but it has become unmanageable as of late. However, you can check my weblog at http://fesselnsfiction.blogspot.com/ for news of my latest works and to read some new ones. Or, you can catch me on Twitter for up to the minute progress. Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated. Please e-mail me at FESSELN1@aol.com or post them on my blog.