Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, BDSM, MaleDom, Rough,
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Sequel to, "It's Against the Law."
As they left Dalton looked over his shoulder at Jean who still had a shocked look on her face. "You should have asked, Jean; you should have asked," he told her.
Suddenly her stomach twisted in knots; she felt her gastric acids forcing their way up her esophagus; she leaned over and the foul tasting yellow and green slime spewed from her mouth and nose, burning her senses as it splattered with disgust, soaking into the concrete sidewalk.
Terrified that they heard the repulsive sounds of her retching Jean looked in their direction, but they had already walked far enough away that she was saved from humiliation. She stood while grabbing a tissue from her purse and made a hasty retreat in the direction of her apartment.
Never, in the four years since their divorce, had Jean felt such a sense of loss; all this time the only thing that had kept her from losing it entirely was the knowledge, that had she and Dalton stayed together, she would have never been able to explore her sexually submissive nature; at least that's what she kept telling herself. It was a tiny consolation for losing the man she loved but she needed it, it was all she had left.
She ran toward the sanctuary of her flat, almost hysterical in her grief since seeing her ex-husband with his new wife ... his new, 'submissive' wife! 'You should have asked, ' he told her, shattering the myth to which she clung.
How; how could she ask? Dalton was her white knight, her King Arthur, her Robin Hood, and she was his Maid Marian. How could she have taken a chance on destroying that image; at the time she tried to bring herself to talk to him but just couldn't. When Irv, a co-worker, suggested they try a few little bondage games together it seemed like the perfect solution; what could it hurt, they weren't really going to do anything and there was no way Dalton would ever find out.
It started out so innocent, the first few times they didn't even take their clothes off; it was fun, she felt so naughty. Then they got a little more daring and the next thing Jean knew she was tied up in just her bra and panties while Irv was feeling her up and fingering her to an orgasm. She was helpless to stop him; that was the point; it was thrilling and oh so erotic. As time went on Irv became more aggressive, and she let him.
Then came the day her life stopped. For the first time since starting their innocent bondage games she'd agreed to be blindfolded and tied to the bed naked; she reveled in her vulnerability as clamps were tightly attached to her nipples; she writhed with wicked delight as the phallic shaped vibrator was pushed into her defenseless pussy. On top of that she was going to allow Irv to, 'force' himself in her mouth. That's when all hell broke loose; until her dying day, her heart will break all over again whenever she remembers the two words Irv spoke that day in the motel room; the two words that ended her world... 'It's Dalton.'
Jean rushed inside slamming the door behind her then slumped to the floor hugging her knees to her chest and cried.
What; what was happening? Jean was in a fog, her mind was groggy; where was she; what time was it? What was that noise, that ringing ... her phone; she realized the ringing noise must be her phone.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and noticed she was still in her clothes from the day before; she blinked trying to clear the dried remnants of tears from her eyes, that's when things started coming back to her. The last thing she remembered was sitting with her back against the door and crying but she must have flopped down on the bed then cried herself to sleep.
Oh shit, did she sleep all night; what day was it, she wondered? She searched for her cell and found it still in her jean's pocket, the same jeans she was wearing when she saw 'them.'
"Hello," she uttered weakly.
"Jean, are you okay?" came a worried voice from the other end.
"Yeah, I ... I think so, who..." her mind still wasn't working to capacity yet.
"Jean, it's Bel, are you sure you're okay; you don't sound good."
"Ah, yeah, I'm okay, I think I must have fallen asleep, what time is it?"
"It's after ten; everybody's wondering where you are; you didn't even call in, what's going on?"
Jean was starting to emerge from her daze, she recognized the concern in Bel's voice; she also realized it was Monday morning and she was supposed to have been at work an hour ago.
"Oh shit," she blurted out now aware of her predicament. "Bel, do me a favor, tell Mr. Jacobson I wasn't feeling well this morning but I'm better now and I'll be there by noon, will you please."
"Well, you're in luck there, girl," said Bel, "Mr. Jacobson is out of the office and won't be in until two, so hurry up and get your ass in here."
"I have to grab a shower then I'll be there as quickly as I can," she responded. As Jean disconnected the call the rumbling in her stomach told her she should have something to eat before taking that shower. As she plodded out to the kitchen she recalled more and more from the previous day. She remembered seeing her ex-husband, his new wife, and their newborn daughter as they walked by the park bench where she was sitting. She thought back to their conversation and then she remembered the source of her grief; she remembered seeing the silver choker and recognizing it as a slave collar, a sardonic symbol of the life she could have shared with her loving husband.
New tears started to form as she scrambled a couple eggs. She condemned herself for being such a fool; she could have had it all if she only had the faith in her husband she should have had and told him of her submissive fantasies. Even if he wasn't interested in participating, she should have known he wouldn't have stopped loving her; only the pain of finding her with another man could do that.
As the week progressed, Jean tried to find some solace; at least some. For the last couple of years she hadn't been dating at all; not within the BD/SM community or out. She decided she needed to start socializing again. Jean never used her computer at work for anything that wasn't business connected, so she waited until she was home alone before visiting some of the bondage related networking sites she discovered after their divorce; there were two in particular, they were supposedly the best and the only two where she had registered a profile.
As usual with most females, she found in excess of three hundred emails; most from horny old men looking for an easy lay, but there were also some she felt were legitimate. When she checked the other site she found about the same situation.
This is going to take a while, she thought, so before wading through the sea of messages in an attempt to select her perfect partner, Jean decided to grab something to eat, and maybe have some wine beforehand.
After an hour or so later she was feeling more content with a full stomach and a slight buzz. She sat down and started to muddle through her daunting task. Most of the messages were quickly eliminated but there were a few that stood out. She wasn't looking for a one night stand or to just play, she was looking for a relationship, or at least a reasonable fact simile. She needed something or someone to take her mind off of Dalton and his new family.
She had singled out four such candidates and took a look at their profiles. One lived over an hour's drive from her but the other three were from the surrounding suburbs. She decided on a little test. On another website she was looking at earlier, she noticed a local 'Slosh, ' being held a week from that Friday night. These were usually small, informal, social events for those in the BD/SM life-style, and a good place to meet new people. She wrote the three men she had separated from the pack and told each one she would be there; let's see if they show, she thought. It would be a safe environment and she could get to know them a little before lining up any dates.
The following Sunday she went to her parents for dinner and mentioned seeing Dalton and his wife, Tracy. Her eyes teared up again as she told them how they let her hold their baby. She tried so hard to put on a happy face, but even after all the time that had elapsed, the pain of her loss was written clearly across her face.
"Honey," her mom said as she reached over and laid her hand on top of Jean's, "You're still young, you'll find someone again; someone who will grab your heart and hold on for dear life."
"I don't know, mom; it's already been four years and I haven't found anyone even in the same league as Dalton; I still love him, I think I always will."
"Jean, honey," her dad chimed in, "I love Dalton like a son, but he's not the only fish in the sea; there are others out there, you just have to reel one in, that's all."
Jean nodded her head in agreement, but she knew it wasn't as easy as her dad seemed to think. Maybe she'd find someone next week, she thought; well, hoped really.
As each day of the following week ticked by, Jean found herself getting more excited about Friday night's, 'Slosh.' Toward the middle of the week she again reviewed the profiles of the three men she asked to meet her there.
She had a good feeling, maybe it was false hope, but it was hope. Thursday, after work, she went shopping for the right outfit to wear. She found a sheer, but not too sheer, black blouse and a short, tight black skirt that asked the question, 'can you handle me?'
Four inch, black heels she already had; her biggest decision left was whether to wear comfortable underwear or buy something sexy. Who was going to see it, she thought originally, I'll just wear my normal black lace undies; but as she passed by the display window of Victoria's Secret, she changed her mind. I want to feel sexy, I want to feel irresistible, she told herself ... sexy it is. Now she was getting wet just thinking about it as she looked for something that would put her in the right mood. She found a pair of black thong panties and a matching half bra. Perfect, she muttered under her breath.
In spite of her excitement, she waited in the parking lot until several people had entered and she knew the party was in full swing before making her entrance. She had only been to one or two of these get-togethers in the past but had a pretty good idea of the kind of competition she would have.
Unfortunately, most of those lingering around and competing for her attentions, were the same people she had ruled out on the websites. She kept looking, hoping to see at least one of the three stand-outs she selected but after the first hour she was giving up hope; Jean decided she would finish her drink and leave.
Just as she drained the last of her white wine she felt someone gently bump her arm, "Here, take this," said the masculine voice from her left. Jean looked over and saw one of the men from the website standing next to her with new glass of wine. Jean hesitated; she always liked getting her own drinks when she was out; in this day and age date rape drugs were just too easily available. She looked up at him but made no move for the drink.
"You're Jean, right?" he asked.
"That's right, and if I remember correctly, you go by Sir Kevin?"
He smiled in a way that told her she had it right. "Here," he said pushing the drink in front of her, "Take this, it's safe; there's nothing in it except wine," he told her. She cautiously took it from him. "Come on, let's find a place to sit and talk."
Out of the guys she picked out, he was the one she really hoped would show up; he was certainly the most handsome of the three. She learned his real name was Kevin McMichaels and he worked as a service manager for auto dealership. Jean became a little more comfortable as they talked and finally felt confident enough to take her first sip of wine.
He appeared to be everything she'd hoped for, at least as far as she knew so far. He was tall, probably six-two, and well built; he had thick, sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Once they got the basics out of the way he asked her what she was looking for in a Dom.
"I'm not really looking for anything full time; ah, wait, let me clarify that, I don't mean I'm not looking for a full-time relationship, I'm just not a full-time slave or anything like that. I just like to feel helpless sometimes, I guess you could call it a rape fantasy, with the emphasis on fantasy," she said with a smile. "I'm not really into pain either, although maybe just a little now and then would be okay."
Kevin sat across the table nodding his head at times and paying close attention as Jean explained her desires. "Have you had any long-term relationships; I mean as far as an alternative life-style kind of thing?" he asked.
"No, well ... when I first started experimenting but that turned out to be a disaster," she said with a sad expression. "Years ago I started experimenting with someone; we played bondage games for several months but it ended badly."
"Who ended it; you or him?"
"My husband, actually; he caught us together." Jean wasn't sure why she was being so open with a perfect stranger, maybe it was because she was hoping so badly that something would develop and she didn't want a new relationship to start with secrets between them.
"I see," he said sternly, "so I'm guessing you're divorced then?"
"Yes, for the last four years," she confirmed.
"Jean, if we did get together for any kind of relationship I wouldn't tolerate any cheating..."
"Oh no," she interjected, "Believe me, I've learned my lesson; I would never do that again," she stated.
There was a slight lull in the conversation; Kevin stared at her while thinking over what she said. "You're an extremely pretty woman, Jean," he said finally.
"Thank you, Kevin," she replied blushing just a little.
"Do you have any tattoos or piercings?"
"No, I don't really go in for that," responded Jean.
"Good, there's nothing worse than getting a woman's clothes off only to find a tattoo on her ass saying, 'property of mad max, ' he told her with a chuckle.
Jean was really getting to like him. So many guys at those functions would try to get into a woman's pants right away, or try to impress her with how dominant they could be, but Kevin seemed confident, sure of himself, but not overbearing; he was obviously intelligent and had a good sense of humor.
"Excuse me, Kevin, I have to visit the little girls room," she said standing up with a smile.
After Jean had completed her business in the bathroom she stood in front of the mirror primping a little; a heavy set woman who was dressed in more traditional, 'slave's, ' clothing walked up beside her to wash her hands. "Be careful of the guy you're sitting with," she said looking at Jean's reflection in the mirror.
"Who, you mean Kevin?"
"Yeah, Kevin; he can be a mean one, real mean," she replied.
"He seems pretty nice to me," Jean responded a little defensively.
"Okay, honey; don't say I didn't warn you." With that the heavy set woman with tattoos up and down her arm walked out, leaving Jean to think about what she said.
Jealously, Jean said to herself, it's everywhere. Still ... now she was starting to wonder, a small shiver went up her spine. Damn she hated all this dating and socializing crap; she wasn't a kid anymore. Oh how she longed for Dalton.
Jean looked like she about to cry when sat back down. "Hey, what's going on; what's the matter?" Kevin asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about something that made me sad, that's all," she said taking a tissue and wiping her eyes.
"Well, maybe I can cheer you up a little. It's getting a little late to do anything tonight, but how about dinner tomorrow night, say seven o'clock; I'll pick you up," he told her with a smile.
Jean was apprehensive; she could still hear the words of that woman in the washroom. Did she have an agenda of some kind; why would she lie? Jean tried to study his eyes; they say they're the window to the soul; what kind of a soul did he have; she didn't know, he seemed nice but she just couldn't tell? She decided to error on the side of caution.
"Ah, that sounds like fun, I'd love it, but I have some things to do after work so why don't I meet you there," she responded. "Did you have a place in mind?"
Kevin's wide, friendly smile made her wonder if she was being too cautious; then she noticed the woman from the washroom looking her way and shaking her head, and once again she felt a small cringe in the pit of her stomach.
All day Saturday Jean spent her time wondering, worrying if she did the right thing; that woman's warning still rang in her head. Why would a stranger say something like that to her if it wasn't true? Was it as she originally thought ... jealousy? Or maybe she had a grudge against him for some reason, it was too late now; nervously, Jean got ready for her date.
She picked out something sexy, but not overly so; certainly nothing like she wore to the, 'Slosh.' She thought she saw some disappointment in Kevin's face when he greeted her at the restaurant, tough, she thought, it's our first date, what did he expect?
As the night developed it appeared Kevin didn't really expect much; in fact he was a perfect gentleman and by the end of the evening Jean was thoroughly convinced the woman in the washroom was exactly as she expected ... jealous; that was the only reason she could think of for her to make such an outlandish comment about Kevin.
After dinner they talked for a few minutes in the parking lot before he leaned in and gave her a soft, tender kiss goodbye. She felt her heart flutter and her expectations rose considerably as she drove home.
The next day he called to say what a wonderful time he'd had and asked if he could call back in a couple of days to arrange something for the end of the week; she gladly accepted.
Over the next two weeks Jean couldn't be happier; even though Kevin knew of her submissive tendencies he treated her with consideration and respect. She loved his attentive ways but was beginning to wonder if his gentleman-like qualities would carry through to the bedroom; she hoped they would not. Behind closed doors she wanted to be dominated; told what to do, not asked. She longed to be helplessly bound and forced to endure him ravaging her body, within limits of course. What will he do, she wondered, will he make love to me or will he fuck me hard, taking what is his? She was getting anxious to find out.
She had known Kevin a full month and during that time he had been nothing but courteous and polite so she had no reservations about having him meet her folks. It was their thirty-fifth anniversary in another week and Jean had a wonderful night planned for them with dinner and dancing; now she also had a date for herself.
As they sat and talked in the restaurant, jean could tell her dad and mom were also impressed with Kevin; only when the two ladies were alone did her mom express any hesitations.
"Kevin seems like a nice man, honey, where did you meet him?"
Both of Jean's parents knew of her fascination with bondage and that kind of life-style; they didn't approve but she was their daughter so they supported her while at the same time, prayed that she would lose interest in that kind of thing.
Jean saw no reason to lie to her mother. "I met him at a slosh, mom."
"So he's one of those ... what do you call them ... Doms?" she asked with an air of disapproval in her voice.
"Yes, mom, although to be honest, he hasn't acted much like a one; hell, he's been more considerate than some of the regular guys I went out with."
Jean's mom gave a little sigh, "Just be careful, honey; please. I don't trust anyone who likes to abuse women, even if they do enjoy it."
"Mom, I'm not into being abused, it's..."
"I know, honey," her mom interrupted, "You've told me all about it; I still consider it abuse," she said with a slight scowl, "Look, honey, you're my daughter and I love you very much; I just don't want to see you hurt. All I'm saying is, take your time. I know it's been a long time since you've had someone special in your life and I don't want to see you jumping into something until you're sure, that's all."
"Thanks, mom," Jean said as she leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek, "I'll be careful, I promise."
Just then the men returned to the table with everyone's drinks. The rest of the evening couldn't have gone any smoother. After dinner they all went to a dance club where her parents jitterbug moves were envied by the throngs of younger onlookers.
During a slow dance, Jean couldn't help but smile as she pressed herself against Kevin's chest and took comfort in his strong arms ... not to mention the stiff cock that was pushing against her pelvic bone.
That following Wednesday, Kevin took Jean to the show. It wasn't really a movie she would have selected and she would have appreciated a little input instead of simply being told what movie they would see, but this had been the first time he had displayed any dominant behavior of any kind so she wasn't about to complain.
As they sat in the darkened cinema she felt Kevin's hand moving up her thigh; it had been a long time since she'd had sex of any kind; she was definitely ready.
They were in a public place but she couldn't help herself; Jean moved her hips to meet his invading fingers. She heard Kevin snicker with self-confidence, maybe even arrogance as he felt her wet panties. He turned sideways in his seat, not caring who saw him push her panties aside.
After several weeks, for the first time, she was seeing a new side to Kevin and she liked it, although she preferred to submit in the bedroom, not a crowded theatre. "Oh, God, not here," she whispered.
Without saying a word he put his free arm around her neck and pulled her face closer to his, then covered her lips with his own. She felt him force his tongue to mingle with her own.
She knew she shouldn't allow it, but it felt so good to have this powerful man finally take her. She felt his strong hand caressing her pussy; she gasped with a long overdue sense of euphoria as his finger slipped inside of her. Jean lost track of her surroundings as her breathing quickened. Already lost in rapture, Kevin's voice barely penetrated her consciousness as he whispered in her ear, "Is my little slut going to embarrass herself by coming in a crowded theatre?"
"No," she sighed trying to fight against her building orgasm, "Please, don't make me do this," she pled, "Not here."
"Yes, right here," he said softly, "I want you to come for your master, but do it quietly or everyone's going to know," he said continuing to drive his finger in and out of longing pussy with increased force.
"Jean's breathing was becoming erratic; she was desperately trying to hold back the impending explosion of pent up love juice.
"Oh," she sighed a little too loudly.
"Shhhhh," Kevin told her with a sadistic laugh.
She couldn't hold back any longer when she felt his hand reach down and pinch her nipple. She cried out, mortified with her ecstasy as she climaxed.
Kevin held his finger up so she could see it coated with her fluids, "Suck it," he told her parting her lips. Still in a state of euphoria, she no longer cared who saw her. She took it in her mouth and worked it like a small cock until it was completely clean. Kevin knew he had her right where he wanted her.
"Hey," whispered the guy sitting in the row of seats behind them; he leaned forward, almost touching the back of their chairs so he wouldn't disturb the others around them, "Why don't you guys get a room and let us watch the movie," he said angrily.
Kevin looked at the patron from the corner of his eye, "Can she help it if she's a slut?" he said quietly laughing. "I'll tell you what, come on up here and I'll let you feel her up."
Hearing that, an angry woman sitting next to the man also leaned forward, "I'll give you thirty seconds to leave before I call the police," she snapped.
Obviously his wife, thought Kevin, and she's pissed; probably time to go.
Jean was still recovering from her sexual high as Kevin took her by the arm and led her up the aisle as everyone stared and snickered at the man and his slut.
By the time they reached the outdoors Jean had fully recovered. "What did you do that for?" she angrily yelled as she pulled her arm from his grasp. "What the hell's wrong with you? All this time you've been a perfect gentleman and then you go and pull something like that; what if there was someone in there who knows me?"
"Calm down," he said in a stern voice, "I was just having a little fun; no harm done."
"Look," she said still perturbed, "When I said I was submissive I meant in the bedroom, not in public."
"Okay, okay, maybe I did go a little overboard, but you can't tell me you didn't have fun; have you ever done anything like that before?"
"No, and I don't intend on doing anything like that again, either," she said looking into his big blue eyes. She did have to admit, but only to herself, it was kind of fun.
"Alright," he said in a condescending manner, "From now on I'll save the Dom stuff for the bedroom ... deal?" he said holding out his hand.
She smiled, "Deal," she said with a single pump handshake.
Kevin gripped her firmly and pulled her into his chest; "But right now you owe me, I got you off, now it's your turn. Come on, you can give me a nice blow job in the back seat of my car where no one will see us."
All kinds of thoughts raced through Jean's head as she accompanied him through the parking lot. What happened? Where did her polite, chivalrous boyfriend go, and who was this forceful Dom taking his place? She wasn't sure she liked this new turn of events; it was a little scary. Still ... she was excited; more so than she'd been in a very long time. She could feel the moisture between her legs with every step, she was literally sopping.
Jean was so preoccupied in her thoughts she didn't even realize they had arrived at Kevin's car until she heard him open the door.
"Come on, crawl in there and kneel on the floor so no one sees you."
She passively did as she was told; it was fun.
Kevin slid in next and closed the door. He undid his pants then lifted his hips and pulled them and his shorts down at the same time. Jean watched as his manhood sprang to life.
"There it is, babe; from now on my cock is your God and you will worship it as such; understand?
"Yes," she said looking up at her new Dom.
"Yes what?" he snapped.
"Yes, Sir Kevin," she said remembering what he wanted to be called from his website profile.
"Okay, get busy."
Jean leaned forward and took a long, slow lick from his balls, all the way up the shaft.
"Oh yeah," he sighed. Just as she started to tongue him again he told her to stop. "Wait a minute," he said removing his belt. "Put your arms behind you," he demanded, then looped his belt around her upper arms above the elbow and pulled them together.
This was it, this was exactly the kind of treatment she craved; yes, she told herself, I think I may have found my man.
Now, with her arms secured behind her, she proceeded giving, "Sir Kevin," the best damn blow job he ever had.
"Oh yeah," he said sucking in air between his teeth, "I'm going to come; don't you dare miss a drop," he said just as he erupted inside her mouth. Jean reveled in her cock worship as she swallowed as quickly as she could.
"Not bad," he praised while still breathing a little hard, "Yeah, not bad at all."
"Thank you, Sir Kevin," she said meekly while still playing the game of submission.
"Okay, it's getting late and I have to get up for work tomorrow but I'll pick you up Friday night at seven; I think it's time we advance to the next level, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir," she replied again.
"Good, then Friday night we go straight to my place," he told her.
For the next couple of days jean was confused. On the one hand she really liked the well-mannered, respectful Kevin she had dated for the first few weeks; but on the other hand she got wet just thinking about the dominant Kevin from the other night, although he did go overboard with that stunt in the theatre; that she didn't like at all. She'd have to make it very clear to him that she wouldn't tolerate any more public displays; her fantasies were for the bedroom and behind closed doors and that's the way it will stay, she told herself.
By the time Friday rolled around Jean had set some hard ground rules she would discuss with Kevin before going any further. When he picked her up that night Kevin seemed a little moody in the car so she decided to wait until they reached his place before talking. She was sure she was in for a memorable evening.
She envisioned the two of them snuggling on the couch. She could feel the warmth and comfort of his strong arms holding her while they smooched and played tongue tag. To the side of his bed would be a bottle of wine chilling in a carafe. When the time was right they would go over her rules for the bedroom, then he would tie her up and make love to her body ... slowly ... sensually. Yes, she had it all worked out and she was looking forward to it.
"Okay, bitch, strip!" he ordered her as he closed the door to his apartment and threw the dead bolt.
Jean turned around and faced him with anger in her eyes; this was not what she wanted at all.
"Just hold on there, buster," she protested, "I..."
Kevin roughly grabbed her arm. "Shut up and strip," he ordered again.
Jean pulled away from him and let out an exasperating gasp as she defiantly stood her ground staring at him in revolt. She recalled the woman's warning in the washroom the night they met. Could she have been right all along?
"I don't think so," she said making a move for the door.
Kevin grabbed her around the shoulders and pushed her backwards almost making her lose her footing; a backhand to her cheek completed the process and she tumbled backward, painfully landing on the couch.
She looked up at him in shock; he could read the panic written in her face. It was just what he wanted to see.
"If you're not out of those clothes by the time I count to three I'm going to rip them to shreds and you can walk home bare ass naked after I'm done with you," he growled.
Tears welled up in her eyes as Jean hurriedly started to undress.
"That's better," snarled Kevin, "Don't ever make me have to repeat myself again."
Quickly she removed her clothing; her naked body trembled with fright as she stood before him.
Kevin was very proud of himself; with a just a little research he knew exactly how he was going to control her; yeah, he had lots of plans for his little bitch, he might even turn her out when he was done with her himself.
"Get down on your knees," he ordered pointing to the floor.
Jean couldn't believe this was happening; she had dreamed of submitting but not like this; this was not fun at all. She prayed he would not do her any real harm; she had already made up her mind she would obey in hopes of not antagonizing him again; but as soon as she was free she would go to the cops and have this asshole arrested.
She dropped to her knees.
"Now, crawl over here; I want you to unzip my pants and take out my cock. I want the best damn blow job you've ever given."
Jean's hands trembled and she could taste her own tears as she followed his orders. She pulled his zipper down and started to reach in his pants...
"No, pulled them down, stupid; like the other night. You think I want the zipper rubbing against my cock?" he admonished.
She started to do as he asked but did not answer him. He grabbed her hair in the back and yanked back so she was forced to look up at him, "I asked you a question, bitch, did you hear me?"
"Ye ... yes, sir," she answered.
"Well, do you think I want the zipper rubbing against my cock?" he repeated.
"No, sir," she replied in a shaky voice.
"Okay then, next time don't be so stupid."
In spite of her terror, she took him in her mouth and did the best she could. Just as he started to come, he grabbed her hair again and pulled her away so he could spurt his seed over her face. He snickered as he took out his cell phone and took several pictures of her that way.
When he was done, he picked her up by her arm and marched her into the bedroom. He told her to put her hands behind her back. As she felt the cold steel around her wrists, Jean remember another time when she was in cuffs, that didn't turn out very well either.
"Please," she begged, "If you let me go now I promise not to say anything to anyone, honest."
Kevin laughed as he forced the now incapacitated woman onto his bed. "You know it's an interesting age we live in today; with the Internet and a little knowledge you can find out almost anything about anybody. Shit, you were easy, all I had to do was Google you. Did you know arrest records were public knowledge?"
He saw more fear in her eyes. "Yup, I know all about you being arrested for adultery. I even know what you were wearing at the time, nothing but nipple clamps and a vibrator; oh, and handcuffs of course. What are you going to do, go to the cops; hell, they already know you're a pervert; you like it rough, it's on record. It'd be your word against mine; 'But officer, she begged me to whip her like that, she said she got off on it.' Who do think they'd believe?"
Jean started to whimper as she listened.
"Then there's you ex; what's his name ... Dalton? I looked him up too, he's a pretty famous photographer, he has his own business ... he even has a book that's out with his photographs. Did you know his wife owns a couple of art galleries in town? I wonder how he would feel about getting dragged into a sex scandal with his ex-wife?"
"Please, please don't do this," Jean cried.
"And if all that doesn't convince you to keep your mouth shut there's always your folks." He saw real terror in her face now. "That's right, that nice older couple I met at the dinner a couple weeks ago. I have friends who are not as nice as me. I wonder how your dad would feel if some of them paid your parents a visit and had their way with your mom right in front of him ... I could make that happen with one phone call ... even if I'm in jail; and if they said anything guess who suffers, yup, you. You think they'd take that chance? So let's not have any more talk about going to the cops or anyone else, you'll keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you to or else ... got it?"
"Yes," she whispered in despair. Jean was beginning to see the hopelessness of her situation and started to bawl.
"Auuuuu, poor baby," he said sarcastically, "Being in a corner unit, I don't have anyone on the other side of the wall to hear you, but still..." he said getting up and going over to his dresser. "Here," he told her, "open up."
With tears still flowing down her face, Jean opened her mouth as wide as she could to accommodate the ball gag he forced between her teeth.
"Now, I'm pretty sure I have established the bounds of our relationship, you are my fuck toy, my slave, it's as simple as that. You will do what I say without hesitation; I don't care if we're in the middle of the loop, if I tell you to strip and give the guy on the corner a blow job you'll do it, is that clear?"
Jean's mind couldn't even comprehend what was happening; she only knew she needed to nod her head.
"That's my good little girl," he said with an evil smirk, "Just to make sure you understand though, I'm going to give you a small sample of what will happen if you cross me or make me mad."
Kevin pushed her down on the bed and straightened her out. She was still crying hard when he turned her over on her stomach and tied her feet together then secured them to the foot of the bedframe. Next he took another piece of rope, made a slipknot in one end, and looped it around her neck.
As terrified as Jean was, she hadn't feared for her life until then.
He tied the other end of the noose to the headboard and tightened it until it fit snuggly around her throat. With her hands still cuffed behind her back she was essentially unable to move.
"Now my little slave, you will learn a lesson in life; never trust anyone," he said with a chuckle. Kevin went to his closet and walked back with a thin wicker rod. He stood on the side of the bed and used it to tap Jean on the ass a few times then lightly rubbed it over her smooth skin as if he was teasing her.
Suddenly a searing pain shot through Jean's body as Kevin struck her with force. She tried to yell but her cries of anguish were silenced by the gag. Hysterically she tried to struggle from the path of further blows but all she accomplished was to make the noose around her neck more snug.
"Careful you don't strangle yourself," he joked as he smashed the implement of torture down on her tender flesh again and again.
Try as she did, it was impossible not to move in the face of such suffering; each time her body spasmed with intolerant misery the tether around her neck drew tighter; she could feel its rough texture biting into her skin as it began to restrict her airway.
Just as Jean was beginning to believe she would not survive, he stopped.
"There, now every time you sit down you'll remember who owns you."
He untied the lasso making no mention of the marks it left behind. The same was true of her wrists; she hadn't even realized how she strained against the cuffs while being beaten. They were covered with deep purple bruises. How was she going to explain them she worried?
"Okay, take off the gag," he demanded. She stood before him, her naked body trembled and she sobbed uncontrollably from the anticipation of more unknown horrors that still awaited her. Kevin reached down and roughly felt her slit, "Shit, you're dry as a bone, what's the matter, I thought this was what you wanted ... to be dominated. Well, like it or not that's what you got so you'd better learn to deal with it because I'm going to be fucking you a lot; you stay dry like that and your little pussy is going to be sore as hell," he sneered.
He was right; over the next thirty hours Kevin abused her sexually, physically, and mentally. At one point he slapped her hard across the face when she didn't submit fast enough. By the time he took her back to her apartment on Sunday Jean's pussy was extremely swollen and inflamed, so were her nipples. She had a black eye, rope burns around her neck, and ugly bruises on her breasts, wrists, thighs, and ass. She could hardly walk from the pain.
As he left, Kevin told her he wouldn't be able to see her again until the following Friday and reminded her to keep her mouth shut, then kissed her with a smile like any regular boyfriend would. She collapsed as soon as he was out the door and cried for the next hour.
Jean was at a complete loss, she was too scared to think; maybe a nice soothing hot bath would at least calm her nerves; it would certainly relieve some of the pain ... or so she thought. In reality the hot water stung as she slipped beneath the surface. She cried out as she submerged the tortured lips of her pussy and could barely sit on the hard porcelain with her beaten and battered butt.
Finally the pain started to subside and she was able to stretch out and let the relaxing water engulf her entire body. She had to come up with a plan, she thought, there must be something I can do, but the more she tried to think the more she saw no hope of escaping from the clutches of the evil man.
Later that evening she tried to take her mind off of her situation long enough to fix herself something to eat, all she had since Friday night was some cold pizza. Sleep didn't come very easily to her and the next morning she was still in no shape for work so she called in sick.
By Tuesday morning her body was recovering from the pain but she still had a lot of discoloration where she had been beaten, especially around her wrists and neck. Most of it she could hide with clothes but she was very concerned about the black eye. She tried covering it with make-up the best she could but she knew it was still visible so she also made up a lie for anyone who asked her about it.
She picked out a winter blouse with long sleeves and a high collar but she could still see the rope burn around her throat. She thought for a minute then pulled a thin scarf from her drawer and tied it loosely around her neck. Hopefully her co-workers will just think she's trying to start a fashion trend, she deemed.
She got into work a little early hoping she wouldn't have to answer anyone's questions about her appearance. It almost worked too until her best friend, Bel, popped into her office from down the hall. She was one of the few who stuck with her through the divorce.
"Jean, what happened to you eye?" she inquired with concern.
"Oh I hit myself with a cabinet door in the kitchen," she said trying to sound convincing. "The damn thing was stuck so I gave it a yank and it came back and whacked me."
"Geez that must have hurt something terrible; it looks like hell."
"Yeah," she responded forcing a smile, "Thanks for telling me how awful I look."
It was then she noticed how Jean was dressed. "What the hell?" she almost shrieked, "It's eighty degrees out and you're wearing long sleeves and scarf? What the hell is going on, Jean?"
"Nothing," she replied not too convincingly, "I, ah ... I; well I was sick all weekend with the chills and I was just trying to stay warm today, that's all."
Jean could see the doubt in her friend's face and knew she didn't believe her. Try as she did, Jean couldn't help the fear that she knew was in her eyes; then they started to water...
"Bull shit," Bel said, "Something is wrong; did someone beat you up?"
"No, no," denied Jean emphatically, "No, I ... Bel, please just leave me alone right now, please."
It was obvious to Bel something was dreadfully wrong with her friend and she was not going to be dismissed until she got to the bottom of it. She stubbornly pulled a chair up to the side of Jean's desk and sat down.
"Listen, remember me? You know me better than that; I'm not budging from this spot until you tell me what the hell is going on."
Jean didn't know what to do; she was terrified of Kevin; what would happen to her if she told, what would happen to her parents? She buried her face in her hands and started to cry, when she did the sleeves of her blouse rode up her arm and exposed the bruises on her wrists.
"Oh My God! Who did that to you?" she yelled jumping up to take a better look. Bel put two and two together and figured Jean was also hiding something under the scarf. The frightened woman winced with pain as her friend started to remove it. "My God, somebody did a real job on you;" she said examining the rope burn, "I'm not leaving here until you tell me what this is all about, Jean, I mean it," she declared.
"Bel, you have to promise you won't tell anyone."
"I'll promise no such thing; whoever did this belongs in jail, what the hell's the matter with you?"
"You don't know him, he said he's having me watched; he said if I told anyone he'd send some friends to gang rape my mother right in front of my dad. Bel he's mean, real mean; I'm scared to death." She started to sob.
"Does this have anything to do with that bondage stuff?"
Jean's eyes widened, she had no idea Bel, or anyone outside of a few people knew of her submissive tendencies.
"Oh don't look so surprised," Bel told her, "I'm married to one of the cops that handled your case for the DA, remember? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I haven't told a sole."
"Oh, Bel; I'm so ashamed," she said not being able to look her friend in the eye.
"Ashamed, why; lots of people are into that stuff, there's nothing to be ashamed about. Is that what this is all about? Is this guy supposed to be some kind of Dom or something?"
"Yes," she responded nodding her head, "But it's gone way beyond that, this guy just gets off on beating and torturing women. I don't know what to do."
"Well the first thing is to have him arrested."
"No, no I can't; don't you understand, he's viscous, he means what he says; I have no doubt he'd do exactly what he said," she told Bel almost getting hysterical.
"Alright, alright calm down; Jean you have to do something, you can't just let him keep doing this to you."
"I know, but what? What can I do?"
"Don't worry, honey; we'll figure out something. What's his name, I'll have Dave do a check on him; maybe he's wanted somewhere; maybe we can get him arrested on something completely unrelated to you." She saw the alarm in Jean's eyes again. "Don't worry, I'll tell Dave the situation, he wouldn't do anything to put you or your parents in jeopardy."
Bell picked her phone up and called her husband, a Cook County officer who was assigned to the DA's office. She relayed the information to him.
"Bel, where did this happen?" he asked.
"In his apartment in Whelling."
"Then she should call over there; tell her to ask for the sexual assault division and fill out a complaint. We can't do anything for her otherwise."
"Can't you run a make on the guy ... just see if he's wanted anywhere?" Please." His wife begged.
"Yeah, I can do that; okay, give me half an hour and I'll call you back," he told her.
"Thanks, honey; I love you," she said kissing the phone.
Bel turned to her friend, "Okay, Dave's going to check for us; in the meantime let's go to lunch."
That sounded good to Jean; she needed to get out of the office for a while and try to relax. The two friends took off for the restaurant around the corner. They had just been served when Dave called back.
"Bel, the guy's squeaky clean; not so much as a parking ticket; if Jean won't sign a complaint our hands are tied."
"Dave, she can't. This guy told her even if he's in jail he can get word to his buddies. If he was picked who knows what he would do to Jean or her parents."
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, "I have an idea but Jean might not like it," he finally said...