The Plume: The First Anthology (11 page)

“Not between my toes,” she said and he did it again, working the towel between her toes that that she squirmed against him once more.

He stood and caught her against himself, kissing her deeply.

“Was I a good slave?” she asked, her lips quirking.

She shouldn’t have addressed him without permission, or he should have punished her for doing it, but Rex liked her comments and playfulness. She looked mischievous, smiling up at him in her hood, clever and so sexy that his breath caught.

He ran his hands over the hood again, liking the delicate feel of her within it, the contrast between his power and her femininity. He liked the look of his dark hands against the purple satin. If she was truly his, he’d keep her hooded every day, run his hands over her like this every day, come in her mouth every night. He’d never tie of her.

“Keep your mouth open,” he instructed. “Like you’re gasping with pleasure.”

She did as he instructed, tipping her head back, and he took a shot of his left hand holding her head, his thumb bracing her chin, her hair falling like silk down her back.

He kissed her again, sucking her dry, wanting all over again.

“Let me suck you off,” she whispered when he broke his kiss and his cock – already hard – pounded at the idea. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

“It’s not up to you.”

She smiled. “But I want a reward for being a good slave.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “I want to return the pleasure.”

She wanted to be in control, like she had been the last time. Rex was close to denying her request and she must have sensed it.

Because she begged.

And sweetened the offer.

“Truss me up as tightly as you want,” she whispered, tempting him with the possibility. “Bind me helpless, photograph me, then fuck my mouth.” He watched her swallow. “Please, Master. Show me what it’s really like to submit to the Plume.”

There was no question of him declining. She knew exactly what he wanted and offered it. Her plea shorted something in his mind, fed a new urgency inside of him, made it impossible to think of anything else.

Rex knew exactly how he wanted her for this.

She would be completely captive.

His.

Finally.

He got the coil of heavy rope out of his bag in the foyer, glad of his own optimism. He led her back into the living room, then headed for the bedroom, his hand on the back of her neck to guide her. He left her standing in the middle of the room, then shut the drapes, cocooning them in a space of ivory satin and velvet.

No satin this time. He wanted it to look rougher, wanted different pictures for his fantasy scrapbook.

He was pretty sure he would startle Joanna and she would change her mind.

He was prepared to back off when she did.

But maybe he’d get a few good shots first.

He tied her hands together behind her back with the rope, expecting the first touch of it against her skin to make her bolt. It was thick, jute, stiff. She started for a second, then relaxed in his grasp. Submissive. So obedient that he thought he’d explode.

But no. He’d build the tension slowly.

Savor it.

Make it last.

He bound her wrists below her buttocks, her arms straight out, winding the rope up to her elbows. He then pushed her down to her knees. She moved immediately, so biddable and submissive that his cock thickened and throbbed even more.

She crossed her ankles at his command and he bound them together, using lots of rope. Too much rope, but the heavy jute looked savage against her fine bones. Exhilarating. He secured her wrists to her ankles, a couple of feet of rope between the two, so that she was trapped on her knees. He had to catch his breath for a second, the sight exciting him so much. He took a close-up of her bound ankles and wrists, her perfect butt behind them.

He adjusted her posture, knees were apart and braced against the carpet, ankles together, back arched. He saw then that she had tipped her head back and parted her lips.

Following his original instructions in the limo.

Her mouth ready for his cock.

Desire ripped through him like a bolt of lightning. Rex worked more quickly, determined to get done before he blew his load, dizzy with the prospect of having her this way. He wound the rope around her over and over again, crisscrossing it over her body, binding her to complete helplessness, encasing her in a network of heavy jute. Her skin gleamed though the gaps, as smooth as the satin ribbon, startling in contrast to the rope.

It was impossible for her to move, to even wriggle, trapped as she was within a woven net of heavy rope. He’d used almost all of it, ensuring her captivity.

He knew what he’d do with the rest. He knotted a length of ribbon over the last increment of the heavy rope, creating a hard satin nub. He hauled that section of rope between her legs, sliding the satin nub so that it rubbed against her clitoris.

He worked it back and forth, teasing her with it until she moaned and rocked her hips.

Joanna was his possession, his captive.

He could do whatever he wanted with her.

For as long as he wanted.

He secured that rope to the others, trapping her snatch against the hard satin knot. She moaned that delicious moan.

He photographed her when she was bound so tightly that she couldn’t even shiver. He photographed her as he moved the knot against her and she trembled with desire. He photographed her as she willingly took his cock into her mouth.

She latched on to him with that surprising strength again, her lips and her tongue caressing him with such expertise that Rex knew he wouldn’t last. He threw the camera onto the bed and once again caught her head in his hands, bracing his feet against the ground. He’d placed her so that the mirror was behind her and the view was better than he’d imagined it could be.

She was completely harnessed. He watched the undulating rhythm of her back and butt as she sucked him. He stole glances down at her hungry little mouth. He watched her drive him crazy, his mind melting at the sight.

She wasn’t powerless, though, not so long as she had her mouth around him. She teased him and tickled him and made him so hard and thick that he felt a buzzing in his ears. He locked his hands more tightly around her head, rubbing his thumbs against her ears beneath the satin, feeling as if he would explode in flames. He drove himself into her, making her take it all, and she did it, her enthusiasm making his heart pound.

But it was when she dug her toes into the carpet and sucked him hard that Rex realized that once again, she was the one in control.

Not him.

He never came on anyone else’s command.

Never.

Even the woman who was his fantasy in every way. Rex was nearly overcome with lust and love as he hauled himself out of Joanna. She gave a cry of dismay but he tossed her on the bed. She bounced, helpless but wriggling.

Wanting more.

Enticing him.

He tugged the rope out of her snatch. When he saw that the satin ribbon was dark, so wet it could drip, he got even harder. He thrust himself into her, burying himself deep into her sweet heat, even as he locked his hand over lips, silencing that merciless mouth.

He drilled her, pounding deep, wanting more, needing more.

Until she screamed with pleasure beneath his hand, arching hard in his grasp, her sex locking around his cock as if she’d drain him dry.

Then his own orgasm erupted through him with savage power. He roared as he filled to her bursting, coming longer and harder than he ever had before.

It was all over before he realized he’d broken the rules. He hadn’t used a condom this time. He’d forgotten himself and lost control, broken one of his own rules.

He had to get out of this room before Joanna undermined even more of his rules.

But first, he’d leave her with something to think about.

* * *

Joanna awakened to the feel of satin gliding around her waist once more. The Master was putting her garter belt back on, smoothing the suspenders over her belly. She felt him slide the stockings over her legs, gently but persistently, fastening them with care. He fitted the shoes back onto her feet and she arched for him, making a little purr of pleasure.

He left then and she feared he was gone, but then heard the tread of his steps on the rub. She smelled a marker, then felt the tip of it on her skin. He drew something on the inside of her left shoulder, over her heart, something with curved lines and a little flourish. A symbol? A mark of ownership?

She yearned to see it, but he tapped a finger on her lips. “Wait.”

He left the room again and Joanna waited. She was content in a strange new way. She felt that she could have been floating on cloud of serenity, her body tired but gratified. She knew she’d feel invigorated and refreshed after she dozed for a while.

She knew she’d want more.

If the Master wanted her again tonight he could have her.

He could do whatever he wanted with her.

She was completely in his power and there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

She felt his presence beside the bed and arched her back in invitation, opening her legs. He kissed her quickly, and slid that ribbon around her waist again. He knotted it, then wrapped it again. Joanna knew that he was harnessing her in satin again and simmered at the thought.

He was overlapping the layers more closely this time, knotting it at the center front and center back. She was on her side and he moved over her, slipping the ribbon beneath her as necessary, making her into the vision he wanted to see. Joanna was content to let him play with her, as she had once played with dolls.

The ribbon was wound around her as high as the underside of her breasts when he urged her to sit up. She thought he’d cross it between them again, but he bound the ribbon right over her breasts. It was so tight that it flattened her breasts, making her catch her breath.

A cage of purple satin.

Joanna shivered. The Master wound the ribbon around her breasts over and over, only her nipples escaping from its restraint. It pulled taut when she breathed, reminding her that she was captive, making her tremble with desire. She was wet all over again, knowing that only he could sate her. The Master kissed her neck, the tenderness making her melt, before firmly knotting the ribbon as high up her underarms as possible.

He wound it back down to her waist, crisscrossing it now, then urged her to her feet. He worked his way down from her waist, encasing her lower body. The strips of ribbon held her captive like a girdle, extending all the way down to the top of her pubis. He knotted this lower section more frequently, working back and forth on diagonals, ensuring that it couldn’t slip, testing it with his fingers.

She noticed that he was only happy when he couldn’t slide one finger beneath it. When she was completely confined, the satin was like a tight-fitting second skin.

He finished at her waist again, knotting the ribbon at the back of her waist. She felt his gaze upon her as he walked around her, surveying his handiwork. She lifted her hands over her head and posed for him, knowing what he wanted.

She smiled when she heard the camera click.

After half a dozen shots, he stretched her out across the velvet coverlet on the bed. He tugged her hands over her head and held both of her wrists together there. He kissed her nipples, each in turn, working them up to turgid peaks between the satin barriers before he abandoned her in a sea of velvet.

Burning.

“Don’t move.”

She didn’t dare defy him, didn’t want him to punish her by withholding the pleasure he could give.

He was back in moments, looping the satin ribbon around her wrists again, across her palms, binding her hands together. It pooled over her arms and she could envision the shining purple mound of it, spilling over her, rich purple against her pale skin and the ivory bedcovering.

There was a sharp tug and Joanna knew he tied her wrists to the headboard. Tender and tough, in perfect combination. She was on her back, displayed for him. When he moved away, she opened her legs, stretching her feet toward the lower corners of the bed.

She saw the flash illuminate her hood and arched her back, trying to please him with her willingness. He took several more shots, and she heard him move to make an adjustment. She felt him leaning over her, the heat of his skin filling her with anticipation. But he put the end of one satin ribbon in her mouth, trailing it across her cheeks to puddle below her ear. Joanna heard the camera click again, then silence.

She rested there, content to wait for whatever he had planned, a simmer of anticipation making her sex throb.

She heard the deadbolt unlock, the door to the suite open and close again.

Followed by silence.

The Master was gone. Joanna knew it with complete certainty. He’d left her bound in a hotel room. Joanna tugged at her hands in panic, feeling the ribbon slide. It wasn’t as firmly knotted as she’d thought. She realized then what he’d done and tugged the end he’d left in her teeth.

The ribbon slid free, sliding around her face, and her hands were free. She ripped off the mask and raced through the suite, not truly surprised to find him gone.

She exhaled, and looked around the suite with amazement at what she’d done in this place. She stood for a long time in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. He had built her a corset of purple satin, one that bound her into a perfect hourglass. Her nipples pushed through the gaps between the ribbon, erect and red. Her naked puss was visible beneath the bottom of the corset, and her labia got thicker and wetter as she considered herself.

Over her heart was drawn a peacock feather in purple sparkling marker.

As if she’d been claimed.

By the Master of the Plume.

No. It was a mark of his having possessed her.

Her submission was over. She’d had her experience of the club and this was all there would be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have abandoned her here. He would have tossed her over his shoulder, carried her off, locked her away and tormented her with pleasure.