The Plume: The First Anthology (20 page)

Stupendous pleasure, but its power faded because there was no root to sustain it.

He watched Athena walk away and realized that she had no intention of sending him away from the Plume to the Dungeon. He’d probably never find Joanna, not until they were back at work after vacation.

He watched Charlie stride closer, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and his body responded to the implicit challenge. Mike decided he might as well enjoy his vacation to the Plume.

He’d learned that he’d never come back again.

He might as well make it count.

* * *

It was almost too much.

Knowing that Joanna was captive in the Dungeon, that he could take her anytime he wanted, was more distraction than Rex could stand. For the next seven days, he was either at the Dungeon, doing what he wanted with her, on his way to the Dungeon, planning some new torment for her, or reviewing his photographs of her. He was completely obsessed and he knew it, but he didn’t know what to do about it other than go back for more.

Was this love?

In a way, he was as powerless as Joanna, as unable to free himself from the lure of more sex with her. Even worse, he didn’t want to be free of this entrapment ever again. How would he let her go at the end of her contracted visit to the Dungeon? How could he wait for her to want more from him? The idea of releasing her struck terror in him. He feared losing her. He thought about stealing her. He knew he couldn’t violate the rules of the Plume, the rules he had created and enforced, but still.

The prospect of not having Joanna a slave to his will wasn’t enticing.

Only another week.

What was the future?

Rex didn’t know. As a man who loved control more than anything else, the depth of his infatuation and his inability to determine his own future should have bothered him more than it did. What bothered him was to not be fucking Joanna.

“You’re distracted,” Athena observed as he paced the office, deciding upon yet another sweet ordeal for his captive of choice. “It’s that reporter, isn’t it?”

He flicked a glance at Athena, surprised that she’d guessed. She was dressed in black leather on this Friday night, her auburn hair coiled around her head like a corona. Her boots were high and her dress both short and tight. A massive silver zipper ran down the back of the dress, inviting anyone to take her from behind. Rex remembered when she’d bought that dress, what they’d done that night, then imagined Joanna in similar garb.

He’d dress her up. That’s what he would do next.

Athena shook her head and turned off the computer. “I’ve never seen you so obsessed with a bit of snatch,” she said, getting up to stretch. “It’s not healthy, Rex. Give her to someone else for the weekend. Find your perspective again.”

The very idea tied Rex’s gut in knots. “I can’t. I mean, I won’t.”

Athena’s eyes narrowed. “Why not? What’s so special about this one?” She smiled. “The fact that she’s uptight?”

“I can’t explain it,” Rex said, turning back to his desk.

“No, you won’t explain it,” Athena argued. “You know exactly what’s going on and why.”

He looked up to find her beside him, her gaze assessing. He turned away to hide his alarm, but wasn’t quick enough. Athena caught his elbow.

“Wait a minute. You were caught from her very first interview. Like you
recognized
her.”

Rex’s heart leapt but he tried to keep his expression impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He made to leave, but found Athena in front of him, her eyes snapping with anger.

“You do know her, don’t you? You know her and you recognized her and you didn’t declare as much from the get-go.” She shook a finger at him. “The rules are for the good of all members, Rex. You should have said so, right from the start.”

“It doesn’t matter…”

“Doesn’t matter? Look at you! You’re completely fucked up – pun intended – over this Joanna. Of course it matters!” Athena marched back to her desk, and turned on the computer again. “It’s out of your hands,” she said briskly. “I’m giving her to someone else for the weekend.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can do that and I will. We’re equal partners, Rex, and if you’re too stupid to take care of yourself, I’ll do it for you.” Athena studied him, caught her breath at his obvious distress, then smiled. Her voice softened. “I need you, Rex. The Plume needs you. All Joanna needs is a good spanking.”

Rex was filled with such distress that he couldn’t say anything in his own defense. On one level, he knew Athena was right. On a deeper level, he feared losing Joanna. He
was
fucked up. He turned away and paced, ran a hand over his head. “She doesn’t know. She doesn’t remember.”

“So you didn’t even tell her?” Athena’s tone was heavy with disapproval.

Rex shook his head. Athena sighed.

He jumped when Athena put a hand on his arm. “Tell me,” she urged.

“We went to the same high school.” He smiled a little and shrugged, knowing how silly it would sound. “I was always crazy for her. She was perfect. Sexy, smart, ambitious, funny sometimes.” His lips tightened into a thin line.

“But you never talked to her?” Athena guessed.

Rex shook his head. He took a deep breath, then appealed to his partner. “This is my fantasy come true, Athena. This is what I’ve wanted for twenty years. Let me have it. She’ll be gone in a week, and she’ll probably never come back.”

Athena smiled. “Don’t pretend you aren’t trying to change her mind about that.”

He smiled then, shook his head, his throat tight.

“You’ve never been in love before, have you Rex?” Athena asked quietly. Her eyes were shining when he dared to look at her and she smiled at him. Her smile was a bit sad. “Everyone should try it once,” she said, then shook a finger at him. “But I’m keeping tabs on you. You slide under any deeper and I’m giving her away. Okay?”

Rex nodded and smiled, knowing it was for the best.

Athena gave him a tight hug and a kiss, her perfume closing around him like a protective cloud. “Now, go on. Fuck her senseless and hurry back.”

Rex heard Athena laughing at him as he hurried away to do just that.

Chapter Four

Joanna had no idea how much time had passed since she’d entered the Dungeon. The light in her cell never changed, which completely messed with her sense of time. She ate when food was offered; she used the bathroom when she was taken to it; she spent hours alternatively being trained by the Master and being left bound and alone. Her life became about her body’s desires and needs, about the Master’s desires. When the butterfly vibrator began to hum, she knew the Master was coming. Otherwise, she daydreamed and slept.

Life in the Dungeon was beautiful in its simplicity.

Her daydreams were perhaps predictable. She wondered about the Master. He was a mystery to her and having seen the color of his eyes told her nothing at all about his history, his life, his past. In contrast, though, he knew everything about her body.

To feel such pleasure and pain without an emotional connection to her partner was strange and new. When she was blindfolded, Joanna found herself imagining that it was Mike who did these things to her. She knew enough of his character to know when he’d smile, when he’d tease her, when he’d laugh.

The Master never laughed. He was all brooding intensity and demands. Silence and power. He was sexy but a stranger.

And Joanna wanted more.

The idea consumed her. She thought more about accepting Mike’s invitation after she left the Dungeon. Why not go to dinner with him? Why not find out more? She thought about introducing him to the pleasures she was learning and the prospect made her sex throb even without the vibrator being turned on.

She jumped when the door to her cell was abruptly opened and the Master stood framed in the doorway. He was dressed like one of the guards again, his black leather hood obscuring his face. She’d never get used to how menacing those hoods looked. Just the sight of him made her pulse leap.

As always, he had a huge erection. Either he liked her being his slave, anticipated the pleasure of his next plan or he was always ready for more. Joanna couldn’t guess. He stepped into the cell, closing the door behind himself and leaning back against it as he surveyed her. He took a picture of her.

Joanna had been left secured to the wall opposite the cell door. Her hands were shackled to rings embedded in the wall on either side of her hips. Her ankle restraints were hooked to that spacer bar and then to the wall. The belt around her waist was secured to the wall, as well.

The Master ran his hands over her, letting her feel the weight of them. He started at her head, his grip possessive, his fingers spread wide. He framed her head in his hands, his palms over her ears, his thumbs sliding over her mouth. His hands moved lower, cupping her shoulders and then her breasts. He looked into her eyes as he kneaded her nipples to hard points.

He leaned close to kiss her, roughly and possessively, crushing her against the wall. She heard him inhale, felt his dick against her belly. He grazed her cheek with his, letting the stubble of his whiskers brush against her, then nipped her earlobe.

“Blindfold or not?” he asked.

This was his game, to invite her to cede to him. It reminded her that she was his captive and his slave – and when she made a choice herself, he spanked her thoroughly. Although she’d feared all along that he’d give her to someone else, she realized that he’d never done so.

For a moment, she was tempted to provoke him, just to see what he’d do.

He watched her, his eyes so bright that she wondered whether he could read her thoughts.

“Whatever you prefer, Master, is my choice, as well.”

He smiled, satisfied. He got the velvet blindfold from the black leather box, the one with the elastic back, and fitted it over her head. As always, the darkness sent a tranquility through Joanna. He bent over her, his lips against her ear and his breath making her shiver.

“Suck me off,” he whispered. He stepped back, his fingers in her hair and drew her down toward his hard cock. She could bend from the waist, her butt pressing against the wall and her feet braced against the floor. He guided her to him and kept his hands over her ears. She took him in her mouth, and he purred as her lips closed around him.

“Make it fast and hard,” he commanded. “And swallow it all.”

Joanna did as she was told, a good obedient slave. She locked her mouth around him and sucked hard, working back and forth with increasing speed. She was good at this – and even though she was bound helpless, she liked that she owned him in this moment.

Joanna felt it in the way he shivered as she took him deeper into her mouth. She ran her tongue across the end of his penis, teasing him, smiling when he moaned quietly. She felt his cock get harder and bigger, and tasted the first tiny eruption of his semen. She eased up then, flicking her tongue across him playfully. She gave him time to moan, then tightened her mouth around him for a big finish.

She sucked him dry, sucked with more vigor and power than she ever had before. When he had come and come and come, the Master staggered slightly as he lifted her away from him.

“Naughty slave,” he said, his words hoarse as he ran her hand over her again. “Let me teach you again who is in command.”

Joanna shuddered, her anticipation rising.

To her surprise, he unhooked her from the wall. He removed her restraints with quick gestures and she guessed by the sound that he was tossing them on to the black leather box. He even removed the harness that held the vibrator in place. He pushed off the blindfold when she was completely nude, smiling at her astonishment. He indicated the bathroom and she did as she was told.

The door locked behind her. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair, uncertain what the Master had planned. Her eyes were sparkling, though.

He opened the door and she saw that he’d brought a tote bag into the cell. “Let’s imagine that it’s two weeks from now,” he said. “You’ve left the Dungeon and gone back to your life. I call you.” He glanced at her, his interest clear. “And what would you say?”

Joanna smiled. “I am yours to command, Master.” Whether it was true or not, it was the right answer.

He lifted out a pair of red shoes with impossibly high heels. He bent before her, like the prince returning Cinderella’s glass slipper, and lifted her foot to slide it into a shoe. They fit perfectly. He put on the other one, then ran his fingertips up her legs. He pressed a kiss to her crotch, then stood before her, his hands bracketing her waist. “And so I command you to meet me, for dinner or a show. Then afterward, you again are mine to command.”

“Yes, Master,” Joanna said, then licked her lips.

He returned to his tote bag, lifting out a sheer and fluttery dress. It was a feminine summery dress, the floral print in shades of red and black. It was the kind of dress Joanna would never wear. He slipped it over her head, though, the soft fabric caressing her body as the dress fell over her nudity. It had no opening, but was cut loose. The skirt was so full that it swirled around her knees. It had no sleeves either, but left her arms bare.

He lifted a matching length of fabric from the bag and knotted it around her waist, working it back and forth so that she was tightly bound from waist to her breasts. Joanna smiled, knowing what he liked about the dress.

The Master made her walk back and forth in the cell, spinning at each turn so that the sheer skirt swirled out and bared her thighs to view. It was a deliciously feminine dress, and Joanna could see her nipples through the sheer cloth.

“Maybe we’ll go dancing,” he said, spinning her into his arms. Although there was no music, he led her around the cell in a waltz, his eyes shining through the holes in his mask. Her breasts brushed against his chest, his heat just inches from her. Joanna had a hard time catching her breath. “You know I will have you,” he said, spinning them to a halt beside the leather box.

He pulled the last item out of the tote bag and Joanna’s heart stopped when she saw the roll of black duct tape. It was the kind with threads woven into it for extra strength. She swallowed and stared at him. He took her hand and put the roll around her left wrist, like a bangle. Joanna gaped at it, unable to imagine being bound with tape.