Bound and Freed Boxed Set (7 page)

John couldn't really believe it. Kelly Flynn was in his
arms. So soft, so vulnerable and so beautiful. Jesus. Right now she belonged to
him.

John had intentionally caught up to her in the elevator,
having considered that he might actually ask her out. It was an insane scheme,
but he couldn’t think of anything else. John had never gone out with a woman in
his life, and had no idea what he would do with one if he did. Try to make
small talk at a restaurant like they did on TV? But about what? Was there
anything he could have in common with the purity and innocence that was hers?
Yet strangely compelled, he had been willing to try it.

In the entire time Kelly had been coming to the Basement
never once had John been so physically close to her. Hyperaware of her, John
knew the minute she arrived and the moment she left, but he had easily managed
to camouflage his own interest. Yet John had also been conscious of her eyes
upon him, following him wherever he went. Why did she seek him out? Why did she
watch him? Because of gossip? He had hoped that maybe she might actually be
interested in him.

John knew why now. As an astute, trained observer of both
sexes, he couldn't miss the signs. When John had entered the elevator, and
stood beside her he saw her pale skin flush, her mouth open, her breaths
increase, and her pulse speed up. The woman had also shifted restlessly, with
unconscious sexual need. Kelly Flynn had been aroused by his presence.

Kelly Flynn had been aroused by his presence!

The hollow emptiness in his chest eased at the thought.
For the last month he had watched Kelly take up with one new Dom after another,
telling himself that it was better this way. That she needed the experience.
That he didn't have to be first, as long as he had her eventually. And perhaps,
just maybe he would be her last. Yet he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask if
she would let him Top her. Because what if she said no?

It was obvious that Kelly didn't recognize him, and yet
he could
never
have forgotten her. When he had first seen her at the
Basement he had thought he had finally lost his mind. He was sure that she was
a hallucination, something from his own subconscious coming to life.

Kelly wasn't a child anymore, but she was still the same
amazing person, the opposite of himself: cheerful, happy and naturally kind.
The woman tried his emotional control, and had done so from the first. Why was
that? Was Kelly Flynn the dream? He already loved her - he always had, in his
peculiar dysfunctional way. But could Kelly Flynn love him? This was crazy
thinking and he knew it. For how could he ever have a real relationship with
anyone?

His own subs had suffered and his sadism had reached new
heights. Every time Kelly went with another Dom he had to fight not to push his
poor subs too far too fast due to an unfamiliar jealous rage. But here she was
now, in his arms. "Have faith,
mon ami
for the universe will
provide," André Chevalier had told him. Well, he had never truly believed
that, but right now it held an aspect of truth.

Thank you, universe, for disabling this elevator
,
came the ironic idle thought. But he really was grateful.

John mused over the recent events. When Kelly had started
screaming after the lights went out he had almost gone ballistic himself.
Always controlled, this immediate reaction had shocked him. Never had he been
consumed by such wild and uncontained emotions, and such bizarre ones for him,
too. He
had
to help her, he needed to protect her and save her from
whatever was happening – all quite foreign feelings, unless he was deep in a
scene with a sub. The only time he felt connected was while dominating a scene,
and of course to a lesser degree with his friend, André Chevalier.

And now, here with Kelly Flynn.

Luckily John's instincts had kicked in, and his
understanding of the human body. First, control the incident and then find what
the hell had happened. Christ he was glad that he had taken pre-med. No one
understood human anatomy, what the human body could take and what it couldn't,
or how to manage trauma better than he did.

André Chevalier had taught him everything there was to
know about pleasing a woman or a man. He had also made John have sex with his
subs, bringing them to climax in various ways, all for their gratification –
and certainly not his own.

"Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, John," André
continually reminded him. "Always your goal is pleasure – c’
est
très
important
!
Oui,
pain, yes of course, as much as you wish
without causing permanent marks or physical damage. Even if the sub desires
such scars, I do not recommend this. With time, people change their mind John.
But pain must only be used as a means to ultimately add to your sub's sensation
of pleasure,
mon ami
. To do otherwise is
un péché
noir
-
a black sin. It will tarnish the soul.
You are a good man, John Taylor, and such is not for you."

Under André’s tutelage, John had become a master in both
pleasure and pain. Thus it had been a simple matter for him to divert Kelly
from her terror with an orgasm. Kelly had simply been in shock. The small,
dark, enclosed space of the elevator had triggered a childhood PTSD event.

John felt a sudden need to swallow, for he had been
affected by her panic. Always physically in control, he decided to allow
himself to swallow, and did so. Yet the significance of the need was not lost
to him. Kelly Flynn was important. It had hurt him to know that she was
suffering. The irony didn't escape his notice - it was such an odd problem for
him to experience.

John continued to softly rub Kelly's back, as she rested
from the extreme violence of those multiple orgasms of hers. He hadn't seen
them of course, but he had felt every one when her body thrashed and her cunt
had tightened in convulsive waves around his fingers. The candid details of her
fantasy of him had his balls tingling, and his cock throbbed and twitched the
more she revealed.

All this time he had been masturbating nightly, dreaming
of her. And all that time she had been thinking of him. God he wanted to fuck
her. He really did, and this surprised him because he never wanted that. He
never even thought about that.

What he really wanted to do was hurt her.

Kelly doesn't like pain,
he
thought, and disappointment stabbed at him.
But maybe, like many others, I
can teach her to enjoy it.

John found it difficult to be emotionally involved with
the rest of the human race, except through pain. But with pain there could be
in his experience, no greater bond. There was always a point, a moment of
surrender when torturing someone. It was the ultimate joining, when the eyes
met and two souls linked in a place far above the physical realm.

Correctly done, pain was profound. It was a spiritual
release, and an honest connection like no other. The reward of torment, the
subs willing submission, the agony, then mercy and forgiveness. Such was a gift
from each to each other. Kelly liked a spanking and some hurt, but could she
like it enough to meet the heights he wanted to take her to? For he would never
ever take her anywhere she didn’t want to go.

God that kiss. John didn't kiss, but he had longed to
kiss her. It was as if her goodness flowed into him with that kiss. Kelly was
all lightness to his dark, all radiant white to the dirty black hole of his own
darkness. John wanted to kiss her again.

"John?" Kelly said, stirring from her
trance-like state of release.

"Yes?"

She sat up. "I know you never allow anyone…"
she cleared her throat, "I mean do you mind if I suck you off?"

"I don't do that," he replied instantly.

"Oh," she said in a forlorn voice, clearly
saddened by his response.

With logic and observation, John was attuned to others.
These were ingrained skills he had trained into himself on purpose. John
noticed everything, but even more so with Kelly. She was submissive, and most
submissive women found real pleasure through serving a Dom in that way. This
was a natural part of Kelly's makeup. John hadn't wanted to wound her. Hurting
her felt like hurting himself. What was that about? Why was that?

There was a long pause while John considered granting her
wish. Could he climax with Kelly? He had tried with other submissives both male
and female, but was utterly incapable. Only twice had he been able to climax
with another.

Once had been on his eighteenth birthday, when he had
begged his Aunt Brenda to take his virginity. That had been a terrible day.
Brenda had been kind and understanding. She knew his history by then, and felt
responsible. Aunt Brenda had been the only good thing in his life ever, and
nothing had been her fault. Aunt Brenda had been a beautiful woman. But it had
taken him most of the day to finally achieve a climax with her and it had given
him no pleasure. John grimaced. He had learned something of what he had wanted
to understand about sex, but the entire process had still been hideous.

The other time he had been able to orgasm with another
was with André Chevalier, four years ago. At that time the terrible shame he
usually felt afterwards had been overridden by grief for Aunt Brenda's death.

Masturbating was safe and regular, particularly after a
good session where he and his submissive had brought each other to soaring
euphoric heights. At those times he had to relieve himself in the shower even
before leaving the club, and those orgasms always produced some enjoyment for
they felt clean and pure. Sexual release otherwise was a shameful, dirty, necessity.
It was something his body had to do, like urinating, or eating, but less
pleasurable than either of those things.

If he understood the problem he would be able to fix it.
That was why he had completed a psychology degree after all – but there were no
answers there. John Taylor couldn’t climax in the presence of another for he
could barely climax on his own. Was it a question of vulnerability? Because he
was unable to show how he felt? Or give himself over? Or was it simply negative
associations with the entire process?

André had told him that the ability to climax with
another would come to him eventually. He had suggested that perhaps it was a
matter of the heart and soul, and that John just needed to find someone to love
and trust. John gave an internal snort. It seemed an endless, impossible task.
But maybe because it was dark, and because for some strange reason he really
cared about this girl? Could her purity be a key to find enjoyment and the
ability to actually climax with another?

With his arms encircling Kelly's torso, John squeezed,
noticing that this was an impulsive affectionate touch. Usually every action he
took when near others, except during a scene, was pre-thought out beforehand.
John didn’t feel affection for anyone unless he had brought a submissive to
release through pain, yet he was fond of Kelly. Was it karmic? Was it meant to
be this way? But what if she couldn’t make him climax? How could he face Kelly
again after exposing her to his own personal shame?

André Chevalier had assured John that someday he would
find someone, or they would find him. John wondered if Kelly could be that
someone. It felt right, but how could he trust feelings? Especially when he
preferred to cut his emotions off all together and live without them entirely.

John's jaw clenched with decision. He should just say no
and forget the whole thing. But he couldn't do that. Because he didn't want to
hurt Kelly.

God damn the woman was messing with his head, yet he was
incurably drawn to her. He would simply have to do it. "Courage,
mon ami,
"
he could hear the words of his mentor say in the back of his mind. It was
madness, and it was well beyond daring, but he wanted to risk everything.
Because of her.
'Yes, I'll do it,
he decided.
For her.

"I don't have a
condom," he suddenly said, realizing with both relief and agony that he
may not be able to throw himself off this cliff after all.

John wasn't
frequently surprised, but even as a child Kelly had stunned him with the
unexpected. Irrepressibly cheerful, even trapped in a small dark room, she
laughed out loud.

"The man with
brandy in his jacket doesn't have a condom? Well, don't worry, I have one in my
purse," Kelly said, "but I'd rather not use it, if that's okay. I
mean, we both have had all the tests for the club, and I always use condoms.
But because it's just oral, and because…" she stopped suddenly, and John
knew then that she had found something she didn’t want to tell him. And since
she didn’t want to tell, he would force her to do so. That was just who he was.

"Tell me, Kelly. You said
because…"

"Because sucking you to completion
will be special for me. I want to do something nice for you, John. I really do.
I don’t know why. I know you never do oral or even sex with anyone, but will
you let me? Just this once?"

"I will allow it, Kelly," he said, as if
granting her a privilege, which in fact he was. No one ever touched him there.
Never. His body reacted, wanting to tremble and move but he automatically
suppressed those urges as he always had, with rigid self-control.

"Oh God, really?" she said, her voice leaping
with enthusiasm.

In the darkness, John permitted himself to smile,
something he would never do otherwise. John avoided showing emotion, hell he
didn't even
allow
emotion. It was a habit, and a survival mechanism, he
knew that. It was difficult to change. Yet here in the darkness Kelly had made
him inexplicably happy, and he felt comfortable grinning as broadly as he
liked.

John stood up, and Kelly moved toward him, resting her
trembling hands on his hips. She reached up for his buckle, and undid it and
his zip, pulling his leather pants down past his thighs, allowing his hard cock
to spring free. It ached, and dripped, but John was used to that. It was as
easy for him to disconnect from his own cock as it was to be detached from
people, or even himself. He moved his legs apart, making himself the perfect angle
for the height of her mouth.

"Um, do you want or don’t want anything
particular?" she asked.

"No," he said dispassionately. For some reason
he just couldn't be involved. Even with Kelly. Yet his cock was certainly
interested, so perhaps nature would take its course.

Kelly said, "Um, John?"

"Yes?"

"Um, before I start, I just want to say, I like to
do it, but I really don’t know if I'm any good at it. I just want to say, if
you think I can do it better or if you want me to do something differently,
will you tell me?"

He heard an odd catch in her voice. John put his hand
down to her face, and felt her hot tears once more. What did it mean? Why was
she weeping now? Kelly was so hard to understand sometimes. "Tell me why
you are crying," he ordered.

"I don’t know if I can explain," she said with
a hitch in her breathing.

"Try."

Kelly blew out a breath of air. "It may be a woman
thing that a man can't appreciate. I just feel so emotional. You," she
sniffed loudly, "You have been so kind to me tonight, and I just never
expected it. You made a horrible experience the most memorable event of my
life." Kelly was weeping even more, John could tell even without an
ability to see her. Her voice was raised and her turbulent emotions flowed over
him like a river racing through a rocky gorge: they were fresh, honest, and
purifying. Something inside his own chest stirred.

"I am honestly so glad this stupid elevator
broke," she said, and she sniffed loudly once again.

Kelly's childlike, snuffling runny nose touched him. The
woman really was just so damn sweet. John reached into his jacket, pulled out a
handkerchief and gave it to her.

Kelly laughed, "Oh my God! Who has a handkerchief in
their jacket?" She blew her nose loudly. "You have everything.
Brandy, handkerchief. What next?"

"My Aunt Brenda always had a handkerchief,"
John said musingly.

"Really? Do you like her? Is she a good Aunt?

"She's dead," he said flatly. "But I loved
her very much." John was surprised at the automatically truthful response
he had given. Not that he usually lied. More that he never told anyone about
himself. Never. Such was his habit and unbreakable rule. But somehow here in
the shelter of darkness he had wanted to remember Aunt Brenda, and he had
wanted to share that memory with Kelly.

"I'm so sorry. It's hard to lose someone you
love."

"Yes," John said. He skimmed his fingers
lightly over her face, stroking her cheeks affectionately. Kelly didn’t think
she had much experience in going down on a man. Well, he hadn't much experience
in receiving such attentions.

Honestly, even the idea of it made him feel a little
queasy.