Blindfolded (8 page)

“You were in the service then, weren't you?”

“Yes, you sly little fox. I was in rehab for over six months and, during that time, I learned to listen, feel, and touch my environment with my senses. It was the most valuable lesson of my life. It also defined my future.”

Regan paused, thinking of what the man had suffered through. “You must have been terrified. I'm so sorry you went through that.”

“I'm not. But I am somewhat surprised by your response.”

“Why? Did I say something wrong?”

“Not at all. For the first time, you have accepted me as a person and not a stranger. You didn't use this information to find more clues. Just for that, you get another reward. But first…”

Regan frowned as he handcuffed her wrists to the top posters of the bed. She tilted her head, listening carefully to his movements as he eased off the mattress. The familiar clang of the tuning fork caused her to tremble with excitement, and she grinned with eager anticipation. As before, he touched her stomach with the vibrating device, but this time, etched it downward.

Another pitch joined the first, a higher, faster vibration and he brought the two forks gently across her belly button, making her giggle. Warm lips pressed against her abdomen and she squirmed as his tongue tickled her small indentation.

“This would look so cute with a ring,” he said, nibbling on the soft skin below. “Would you like that?”

“Will it hurt?”

“Here? I wouldn't think so. But here,” he grazed downward, over her pelvis and across her smooth mound, “it would probably smart a bit. Interesting that you wax.”

“Life is easier that… way… Oh my…!” she groaned as his tongue slipped between the puffy lips of her waiting sex. The forks joined his exploration, the vibrations close to touching the hungry little nub that strained towards pleasure. He rested the tips of the forks on the outer edge of her slit, spreading her lips wide as they stimulated her nerve endings.

“You are irresistible,” he groaned as he leaned down to take her into his mouth and began to suck gently, flicking her bud with the tip of his tongue. Her juices flowed copiously from her body, and he inserted one… two… three fingers deep within her and began to plunge steadily to the core of her being.

Regan gasped, dizzy with the sensation of being taken so powerfully by both his mouth and his hand. Her focus scattered as she submitted to her senses. She lifted her body towards him, wriggling in demand for more.

“Master Jay…” she whispered hoarsely. “Please, fuck me. Hard. I need to feel you.”

“Not just yet, Regan. You must learn to release your entire body to my command,” he said, tickling her clit with the high fork as he spoke.

She squealed, caught between the desire to pull away from the intense vibration and to press herself into it. His mouth rejoined her, lapping her moisture hungrily as she squirmed under him. He clapped the forks together one more time and gently maneuvered them to either side of her nub. Regan exploded in a flurry of hard spasms, shouting as she raised her back off the bed in a hard arch and clamped her thighs around his shoulders.

He grunted as she held him in a tight grip, her heels digging painfully into the center of his spine. When she finally relaxed her hold, he gently pulled away and leaned next to her panting body.

“I can see the headlines now,” he teased. “Local man found in bed, drowned to death during an orgasmic death-hold.”

Regan giggled. “Name unknown. Suspect is acclaimed adult literary artist, Felicity Fairchilde. No charges have been filed at this time…”

“Due to Miss Fairchilde's precarious position of being naked, handcuffed to a bed, and blindfolded,” he finished. They both broke into a loud gale of laughter. “Sleep now, Regan. You have to rest up for tonight.”

“Yes, Master Jay,” she purred, snuggling her cheek into the cup of his palm, “…and thank you.”

“For what?”

“For starting to teach me how to laugh again.”

Chapter Four

In the absence of any light, Regan felt disorientated when she awoke to the sound of tinkling glass and the flapping of some type of fabric. She felt the bed sink next to her and turned her head eagerly in his direction.

“Time to get up. I'm going to uncuff you and then give you directions to follow.”

“What type of directions?” she asked as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Drop to the floor and get on your hands and knees. It’s carpeted in here, so no whining.”

“You sound so mean. Are you upset about something?”

“Do as you are told, Regan.”

With a scowl, Regan slowly lowered herself to the floor and waited. She heard him walk away and strained her ears to discover his whereabouts.

“Come to me. Follow the sound of my voice.”

He was fairly close by, and she slowly crawled, listening for him. Without notice, she collided into his legs.

“Ow! You didn't tell me you were right there.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride. Hey—what's that?” She lifted her nose at the smell of something sweet.

“Open,” he commanded.

Regan obeyed and grinned as he popped a piece of chocolate-covered strawberry past her lips.

“Yum!” She grinned. “I am a sucker for strawberries with dark chocolate! More? Master Jay?”

“Find me now,” he ordered, walking away.

“Is there furniture I can bump into?” Regan asked nervously.

“The carpet is clear from anything. Use your senses.”

Regan sighed, listening carefully. Slowly, she crawled towards the sound of his breathing and, once again, collided into him. He popped another strawberry piece into her mouth and then repositioned himself elsewhere on the carpet.

She could tell when she reached the carpet boundaries, feeling the cold floor beneath her hands. This time, she could not hear a sound. She sat back, listening. A breeze from an open window tickled her skin and brought with it the sweet scent of chocolate. With a grin, she crawled in that direction, sniffing for the strength of the aroma. Sure enough, she ended up against his legs.

“Very good,” he praised, giving her a whole berry. “What are your instincts right now? Follow them.”

Regan wrinkled her nose. She wanted another treat. On impulse, she began to rub her face and neck against his legs and made purring sounds, mimicking the motions of a cat. She wondered how ridiculous she looked as she stroked her body against him and undulated around his long limbs. She was rewarded by the placement of his hand on her head and the petting of her hair.

“You are amazing,” he proclaimed. “Open—ouch! What are you doing?”

Regan had grabbed his hand, then started using her nails and nipping his fingers in sharp little bites. Growling, he snatched her up and carried her across the room, ignoring her laughter.

“My pet does not scratch or bite her Master. Bad kitty!” he scolded, placing her over his lap and smacking down upon her naked bottom.

“Hey, you told me—Ow!—to follow—Owww!—my instincts!” Regan yelped, trying to wriggle away.

He was not punishing her hard. In fact, she found the whole ordeal very arousing.

He grunted. “Obviously, my dear, you are not learning your lesson. So, you want to entice me to continue, you little minx?” he asked, his voice playful, “Very well… we will play the game
your
way.”

He flipped Regan off his lap and left her giggling on the bed. A few seconds later, she heard him opening a drawer and the sound of something being pulled out from it. Eagerly, she awaited her adventure, surprising herself at the degree in which she wondered how he would next approach her. She felt the mattress sink next to her and his hands as he once again pulled her over his thighs, positioning her bottom so that it was as high in the air as possible. He then produced a strip of soft fabric, lashing her wrists behind her back and taking care not to bind her too tightly. Regan giggled again, wriggling and using her legs to try to escape his hold.

“You really are a bad kitty,” he scolded, unsuccessful at disguising the humor in his voice.

The jingling of belt buckles caught her attention, and she froze, holding her breath. Instead of using the straps to spank her, he immobilized her by binding together her ankles and knees and then thrust her bulging globes upward, lying in wait for his hand.

Regan squealed loudly, realizing that she was thoroughly helpless to protect herself.

“Now, let's see how feisty you can be when there’s no way to escape,” he commented, his palm impacting her right cheek with resounding force.

Regan shrieked. “Not so hard!” she demanded.

He laughed, slapping sharply against the left cheek, sounding pleased to hear a resistant “
No
!” Regan was begging by the time he reached ten, promising perfect behavior and no more scratching or biting.

“Why don't I believe you, my pet?” he asked, his hand descending upon her pink bottom in a smooth, even pattern of spanks.

She felt tears start to prick at her eyes as he lit her bare bottom aglow, pausing only to readjust her so that he could take advantage of a full, easy swing. As Regan choked back pain and her renewed sense of helplessness, she also began to experience new sensations upon her increasingly sensitive backside. She found herself lifting her bottom to meet his hand, the feeling of pleasure overriding the pain.

“Harder,” she begged breathlessly. “Oh my…
harder
!”

He obliged, changing not the rhythm but the intensity of the blows, focusing his strikes on her pleasure zone, the crown of her buttocks, rather than the sensitive spit-spot. Regan mewed, oblivious except for the sensual heat that panned out from the peaks of her bottom to the core of her womanhood. The rigid thickness of his erect cock pressed hungrily against her tummy, and she begged for his help.

Without breaking his tempo, he reached under her belly with his long left arm and quickly found her hot, wet entry. He pressed his fingers to her clit, allowing the blows from his right hand upon her heated flesh to press her against his playful digit. Over and over again, Regan's body took on a mind of its own and began to shudder with hungry desire. He easily slipped two fingers into her waiting cavern and, with three full-strength smacks, Regan climaxed violently, her screams echoing through the house as she bucked uncontrollably over his knees.

Regan slumped, panting furiously as she tried to grasp the ferocity of her orgasm. She was spent, drained of all energy, thoughts, and her ability to do anything other than breathe. And even
that
was a chore!

He held her in place, his large hand resting in the center of her back as he waited for her to rejoin him in the present reality. “Are you alive?” he asked humorously.

Regan shook her head, still limp and unwilling to move from her place across his secure lap. Memories of what had just transpired suddenly caused her to groan with embarrassment. “I can’t believe that just happened! I’m just a little whore.”

“Why do you say that? You released yourself to me. You allowed yourself to express what you wanted. Don’t you hide your face, young lady. Tell me you enjoyed it.”

“No,” Regan whimpered, her voice muffled in his leg.

He stood her up on wobbly legs between his knees, holding his broad hands on either side of her hips. “Tell me you liked it. Tell me what you want. If you don’t, our next session will not be as pleasurable.”

“I can’t. It’s too demeaning.”

He stood and turned her to sit on the edge of bed, saying nothing.

Regan swallowed, sensing she had displeased him. It bothered her.

Her face turned quickly to the sound of jingling. Still bound by the straps binding her ankles, feet and wrists, Regan realized she had no means to fight off what she feared was coming. Still silent, he lifted her off the edge of the bed and pushed her, face down, over a mound of pillows.

“No, please! I’ll talk! I promise!” Regan begged, hearing the sound of the belt buckle lie still as he held the implement in his hand. The snapping of the loop caused her to shake fearfully. “Master Jay! I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do these things! Ow!”

A screech echoed the air as he brought the belt down sharply over the wriggling, bright red bottom that squirmed to escape punishment. Regan sunk her teeth into the comforter as a second, then a third lash bit into her already tender flesh, and she felt her tears freely flow.

“Say it, Regan. Say it as your heroines would and say it
now
!” he demanded, thrashing another hard stroke across her elevated backside.

“Please!” she began to sob. “Don’t make me do this! Please!”

He tsked, letting the belt fall in wide arcs, lighting her bottom ablaze with pain. Regan cried out, shaking her head, unable to even kick her feet to avoid the heavy, scalding blows that threatened to leave her bruised and aching for days. One after another, the belt fell upon its target. Regan, reduced to a sobbing, begging mess, finally relented.

“I’m sorry I was so stubborn!” she cried out. “I liked it when you spanked me. It felt good, and I wanted more. I wanted you to fuck me hard and long and to take me like I was a prize. Please, Master Jay, forgive me! I promise I will obey you from now on! I swear, I promise.”