Caught: Punished by Her Boss (14 page)

He picked it up and took a large, crunchy bite. J. licked her lips, her face etched with longing. He chewed, swallowed and smiled. “I think I’m going to fuck you. Would you like that, slave?”

“The apple?” she whispered, as if she hadn’t heard him.

Eric took another bite. “You want it?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, sir.”

“Spread your legs.”

J. opened her legs, her eyes never leaving the fruit he held in his hand. Eric went to the bureau and grabbed a condom. Returning to her, he set the apple down on J.’s stomach. “Don’t touch it,” he ordered.

He slid the condom over his erection and moved the apple again, pressing it between J.’s breasts. “Use your tits to hold it in place. Don’t let it fall. I’ll tell you when, and if, you can eat it. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” J. murmured, pressing her breasts together around the apple like a perfect slut.

Eric pulled her legs toward him until her ass was on the edge of the padded table. Positioning himself between them, he crouched until his cock was level with her cunt and pushed himself inside the heavenly heat.

She lay limp and unresponsive while he rutted inside her, but Eric didn’t care. He was focused on his own pleasure. Her cunt was tight as he leaned over her, his cock like a piston, thrusting hard and fast.

On a sudden whim Eric leaned over J. and kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue past her full lips. She jerked her head away. He reached for her chin, forcing her head back. This time he held her in place as he kissed her, or not so much kissed her, as claimed her mouth with his while he fucked his property.

He came hard, a satisfied groan of pleasure pulled from his lips as he spurted against the thin membrane of the condom, still held tight by her perfect cunt. Letting her go, he stood slowly, allowing his cock to slip from her heat.

She was now clutching the apple in her hands, though it still rested on her chest.

“I should take that away from you, you know,” he said.

She clutched it tighter.

“You are never to turn away when I kiss you, or when I do anything to you. That’s basic slave training 101.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t—”

“Save your breath. Here’s the deal. You have a choice now. Eat the apple, but accept your punishment later for turning away, or give me the apple and we’ll wipe the slate clean.”

She stared at him and then glanced down at the apple she still gripped so tightly in her hands. He could see the struggle in her face, and then the resignation.

“The apple,” she whispered. “I’ll take the apple.”

Chapter 9

The smell of food preceded the sound of his clomping footsteps as Eric made his way into the basement. The apple was long since devoured, including the core. The smell of fried bacon slammed into Jessie’s senses, awakening a ravenous hunger.

She’d spent the hours after he’d left her moving from fevered nightmares that crawled like sweat on her skin to long periods staring into the dark, planning a dozen ways to escape. Everything hinged on the scissors and finding the opportunity to use them.

Before the nightmare of the past week, if someone had asked her if she could kill another human being, she would have said no. Even when her father, with whiskey and rage in his blood, had struck out at Jessie’s mother, bloodying her nose, blackening her eye, once even breaking her arm, Jessie had wished he would drop dead, but she’d never thought of herself as the one to make it happen.

But now, she thought, she wouldn’t hesitate. If that was what it took to get free from this
diablo
, she would stab him through the heart and not think twice about it. Not only that—she would enjoy it.

She knew she had to make her move soon. She was weaker each day, with the forced inactivity and the near-starvation conditions in which he kept her. Eric was no Dom, whatever he fancied himself to be, with all his ridiculous talk about proper slave training and discipline. He was modeling himself on the fantasy violent porn so readily available on the Internet that masqueraded as BDSM. He was going to end up killing her in the process if things continued as they were going.

Eric came into view with the loaded tray. “Good morning, slave girl. Sleep well?”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” Jessie forced herself to reply, using the meek, submissive voice she’d used when working as his office employee. She even managed to push her lips into what she hoped passed for a smile. She needed him to think she was going along with his insanity. She needed his guard down if the plan was going to work.

Eric lifted his eyebrows, but said nothing in reply. Though the basement was cool from central air conditioning, she guessed it was another typical hot, muggy summer day in Houston, as Eric was wearing only shorts, his broad, hairy chest bare. He set the tray down and Jessie swallowed hard as she stared at the bounty. There was even a mug of coffee, its heavenly scent curling into her nostrils like a promise.

Eric unlocked the gate of the cage and lifted it. Jessie crawled out, keenly aware of the scissors, which she’d removed from their hiding place and carefully placed beneath the mattress, close to the bars and ready to grab when the opportunity offered itself.

As she’d listened to him coming down the stairs, she’d thought about seizing the moment and hiding the scissors in her hand, ready to plunge them into him the moment she exited the cage. But the promise of food was too tempting to pass up. It was essential she get some fuel in her body if she was going to pull this off.

She crawled out of the cage and knelt upright, fingers laced behind her head, eyes deferentially on Eric’s bare feet. She felt the sweep of his insolent gaze moving over her body and bit her lip to keep from reacting.

Ay, dios mio
, the food smelled so good.

“Have you thought about what we talked about? About the punishment you chose in order to eat the apple?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, silently seething beneath her submissive mask.

“I’m going to give you a choice again today. A chance to skip the punishment altogether.” Eric sat down in front of her, crossing his legs and resting his large hands on his knees. “You can eat this delicious breakfast I prepared for you, and in return receive fifty lashes with the single tail, or you can skip breakfast and take a long, hot shower instead. What’ll it be?”

Jessie dared a glance at his face. The son of a bitch was grinning, clearly thinking he was so fucking clever. She would have bet money that, even if she chose the shower option, he’d still beat her afterward. What was to stop him?

She pretended to ponder the offer as she stared at the scrambled eggs and bacon, and the toast with butter melting in the center. “I’ll take the food and the whipping, sir,” she said softly, adding, “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh ho,” Eric crowed. “Finally figuring out it’s better to cooperate than fight, eh? It’s about time you realized what’s good for you.” He gestured toward the tray. “Go ahead. I’m going to let you feed yourself today. Have at it.”

Dropping her arms, Jessie moved quickly toward the tray, still half afraid he might change his mind at the last second. There was still no fork, but she used the toast, as before, scooping a huge bite of the eggs into her mouth and following it with a piece of bacon. The food was no longer hot, but she didn’t care. It was beyond delicious.

While she ate, Eric moved toward the corner of the basement where the camera equipment was stored. He had taken the Chapman Advertising cameras away, but Jessie’s digital camcorder was still there on its tripod. Though the video quality was nowhere near as good as his top-of-the-line equipment, Jessie had continued to use it during shoots to capture stills from the streaming video.

Eric brought the camera over to the St. Andrew’s cross and then returned to her, an evil grin on his stupid face.

You won’t get the chance to film your torture session, hijo de puta,
Jessie thought, as she continued to shovel the food into her mouth.

“Slow down, little pig,” Eric said, laughing. “I’m not going to take it away.”

She didn’t believe him, nor could she have slowed down if she’d wanted to. Her body was literally starved for the food, and, if her plan didn’t work, who knew when she’d get to eat next. She didn’t stop until there was nothing left on the plate, and the coffee mug was drained dry. Her stomach was already cramping uncomfortably from the now unaccustomed quantity of food she’d shoveled into it, but she’d take cramps from being too full over the twisting pangs of an empty stomach any day of the week.

Carlos, give me the courage,
she prayed silently.

Eric lumbered to his feet and headed toward the whip wall. In the few seconds his back was turned, Jessie slipped her hand under the mattress and grabbed the scissors. She knelt, her heart beating like a trapped bird in her chest, the scissors hidden behind her back.

When Eric returned with the single tail in his hand, Jessie took a deep breath and knelt down, her head nearly touching the floor at Eric’s feet. She brought her hands forward, the small pair of scissors hidden beneath her palm. Her heart was thudding so loud in her ears she was sure Eric could hear it.

It was now or never.

Grabbing the scissors in her fist, she thrust the pointed ends as hard as she could into the top of Eric’s foot.

Eric bellowed and jerked his foot away, sending the bloodied scissors flying. Operating on pure instinct, Jessie reared upright, the top of her head making sharp contact with Eric’s chin. He fell back, still roaring, and landed with a deafening crash onto the ground, his head cracking hard upon impact.

Jessie leaned over him and peered down, confused by the hiccupping sobbing sound she heard, until she realized she was the one making it. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” she began to chant, a swell of panic threatening to engulf her.

She’d killed a man.

She was a murderer.

Then Eric groaned softly and turned his head, though his eyes remained closed. The wound on his foot was still bleeding, but it had slowed. He was alive. She stood frozen for several beats, staring at the prostrate man before her.

She fingered the dog collar he’d forced her to wear, tugging at the buckle and pulling it from her neck. She hurled it across the room, though her eyes never left Eric.

She knew she had to get out of there, but then what? What would stop him from coming after her? Where would she go? She had no family, no one to turn to for help. She didn’t want to involve the police, at least not directly, certain Eric would find a way to implicate her. She just wanted to get away.

She would start over somewhere, but with what money? He’d stolen her business and all her expensive gear. He’d taken over her bank accounts and had probably emptied her apartment by now.

And then, all at once, a plan hatched itself in her brain and she actually smiled.

Springing into action, Jessie ran to the bureau, rummaging in the drawers until she found what she was looking for—a pair of police regulation handcuffs, the metal kind that locked with a key.

She grabbed the cuffs and their key and raced over to Eric, crouching beside him. She would have preferred to cuff his hands behind his back, but he was too big to move easily, and she didn’t want to take the chance of his waking up while she was trying.

Grabbing his wrists, she brought them together in front of his body and snapped the cuffs into place, the key still in her hand. Returning to the bureau, she opened the drawer where she kept her costumes. She kept glancing over her shoulder at the unconscious man on the floor, but he remained out cold.

Hurriedly, she grabbed a low cut black leotard that was easy to pull on quickly, along with a pair of black stiletto heels and a feathered mask to cover her face. She put on the leotard and slipped the mask over her head as fast as she could, letting it dangle around her neck until she was ready. She also selected a black sleep mask to use as a blindfold on Eric.

Carrying the shoes, she rushed back and knelt beside Eric. She placed the sleep mask over his eyes, so it wouldn’t be so obvious that he was unconscious for what she had in mind. Jerking his fly open, she tugged at his shorts, dragging them, along with his underwear, down his thighs. When she had him completely naked, she ran to the whip wall and seized the cat o’ nine tails. Racing back, she grabbed the camcorder and its tripod.

Pointing it toward him, she pushed the record button and hurried into position. Feather mask in place and high heels on her feet, she set up a series of poses she would later turn into still shots. She placed the tip of her stiletto just over Eric’s mouth while she swept his chest with the cat. She positioned the whip handle between his legs so it looked like it was shoved up his ass. She squatted over him and pulled the crotch of the leotard aside, her bare pussy just above his face. The whole shoot only took about sixty seconds, but still Jessie knew she was taking a terrible risk. If he came to, even cuffed as he was, he could still attack her. She was glad her face was hidden by the mask so no one would see the terror she knew must be showing in her face.