Chapter 3: Alice is Rebound as We Prepare for the Next Act

I keep a jar of specially-formulated coconut oil nearby. I opened it, and spread it across the red globes of Alice’s thoroughly spanked bottom. The gentleness of the action, after the erotic brutality of the spanking, would have her mind in a whirl. I did not spare her cunt, although she hardly needed it there; the minx was wetter than a tempest-swelled flood. I did pay special attention to the rose of her asshole, though. I didn’t intend to fuck her there, not tonight, but it would be best if it accommodated something. A plug, yes. I found the perfect one in a nearby drawer: not too large, but ample enough to make her feel well and truly full, and with a strap and a cunning shape that made it all but impossible for her to dislodge it on her own. How she yelped when it slipped inside her, even with her gag! I had not thought to ask before (and naturally she was in no position to answer me then) but I’d have wagered a fortune that she’d never taken anything from a gentleman back there before.

I climbed behind my Alice then, and put my hands on her hips. I think she thought I meant to enter her then and fuck her soundly, but I was still dressed. And besides, we still had many games to play before that.

I backed away, and found a nice vibrator, one with a nine-speed remote control, and slid it inside her instead. When its head rested against her clitoris, I clipped it to the belt that held her anal plug in place and set it to working at its lowest speed — enough to tease without mercy, but, even in her hyper-aroused state, not enough bring her to climax. Soon, she would be magnificently frustrated. I wanted her in a veritable quivering frenzy, and she was well on her way indeed.

Then I set about removing my tailored suit, silk shirt, and boxers. Covering myself with my smoking jacket and slippers, I finished my wine, poured another, and considered how next to proceed. I twirled the wine in my glass before taking a sip. Yes, I had indeed paired wine and woman perfectly. I made it a note to have my partner suggest it to the client, when the time for Alice’s inevitable sale came at last. Perhaps we should send along a case with our compliments. We enjoyed an excellent reputation for customer service, after all. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

As much as I admired Alice’s bottom, I had neglected her breasts long enough. They were in reach, certainly, but I found myself wishing to her position her better, so that those luscious and firm mounds, with their pink nubs hard enough to cut glass, could command my full attention, as they so richly deserved. I took another sip, turned her vibrator up a new notches, just for a second, and then I loosened the strap around her waist. Next I released the cuffs around her ankles. Then, moving around to face her, and to gaze into those large, lovely, blue eyes, I stroked her check gently with the front of my hand.

“Caroline, I am going to call you Alice from now own. Do you know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because it’s a name I chose for you, my pet.” Also because that’s what the client had ordered, but no need to tell her that just yet. “It’s a name that gives me pleasure. It’s a slave’s name, a name for a woman owned for sex. A plaything.” Her breaths came deeper, faster. “And it marks you as mine. I think you like that, don’t you, my pet? Alice. My Alice.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Are you going to be a good girl, my sweet, scrumptious Alice?”

She hesitated, and then she nodded.

“Good girl,” I said. “My very good girl. My Alice.” Flicking the remote control, I turned her vibrator up. All the way, to the very highest setting, and she trembled with ecstasy. I brought her to the very edge of orgasm again before I flicked it down again, and the poor thing nearly screamed with frustration. She would have, I dare say, were she not gagged so tightly.

I removed the stocks last, and she very nearly collapsed. For the first time, she was free of bonds in my home, save for her harness gag. I caught her, lifted her nude body in my arms, and carried her like a babe. She wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my shoulder.

I carried her to a bed, and laid her down gently. Even so, she cried out behind her gag; her lovely bottom was still quite sore. Before she could react, I moved behind the wrought iron headboard, attached cuffs to her wrists, and locked them in place. Both cuffs were chained to the headboard. Moving swiftly, I moved to the foot of the bed and likewise cuffed her ankles. I wanted her securely bound before the thought to struggle even entered her mind. She had promised to be good, of course, but still, (as I mentioned) a gentleman shouldn’t let a woman believe she has a choice, even if that choice is just a token and hopeless gesture. Her surrender, after all, must remain complete. Indeed, it must only deepen.