Freeing Lana (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sergio Marsili sat in a
darkened apartment, silently staring at nothing in particular. The night before
had gone closer to the way it had been planned than any of the previous
attempts. Her name had been Lori, Something-Or-Other, and in spite of her young
age, she hadn’t been like the ones before her. She was truly curious and this
stark difference had been a welcomed relief from the childish, rebellious
bad girl
types he had been encountering
lately. In Lori, he felt he might have found someone worth his time and effort.
She would need to water down the perfume to some acceptable level however,
since his apartment still sang its chorus rather loudly.

Sergio
glanced at the television when one of the station’s news team members suddenly
appeared and said something about a breaking story. He hadn’t been watching
before this as the daytime sitcoms had blended seamlessly from one to another,
and then mercilessly to yet another. He couldn’t even remember when he had
habitually turned it on in the first place, but he was listening now. The woman
who was wearing entirely too much eyeliner and looked more like a high end call
girl than a news reporter had said a name, though it had become lost somewhere
in the blur of rushed words about a shooting.

He
had heard the name Lana, and as he sat there glued to the broadcast,
desperately hoping to hear the name again, the name he dared not mention
himself, he held his breath, hoping it wasn’t unthinkable news. But he hadn’t
heard Lana at all it seemed, and after the broadcast he quickly changed
channels to see if he could catch more of what was happening. The crew at KJTL
was running a bit slower than their competition today, and he was able to catch
the breaking news in its entirety. There was no mention of the name whose mere
mention that still weakened him, only a story about a shooting in Atlanta. His
subconscious had somehow pulled Lana out of Atlanta.
Get a grip, Sergio,
he told himself. He found the remote and the
television screen went black, as the welcomed silence again surrounded him.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lana
Martin lay across the table sobbing. Her pants were still at her ankles and her
legs still felt light, distant aftershocks from the orgasm, but any joy from
the experience had left her the moment she heard the front door close behind
Tink.
Oh God, what did I do!
Her
knees hit the carpet as she allowed herself to fall from the table, but they
didn’t support her and she continued downward until she was lying on her side.

The
stickiness between her legs served only as reminder of her betrayal, and she
hated herself for it. She knew Tink’s hands all too well, as well as any other
part of his body she could mention. While the man fucking her as hard as she
wanted only moments ago had been the right man, the one she had run to in her
weakness, while it was happening, while her body was convulsing with the
sweetest of lustful impulses, it had been someone else she was thinking about.

Seconds
before she had thanked Tink for his touch, she could have swore she heard
another man tell her to say it, and he had been the voice of that one she had
answered, though she hated him with a hate that came from deep within her. She
couldn’t for the life of her – or even her sanity – figure out why his voice
was so seductive in her head.

Time
passed torturously slow with her curled up on the floor, and for a time she
thought she might never find the strength to get up again. But as anyone who
has ever felt guilt can tell you, time has no meaning in moments such as these,
and when she did finally manage to get up from the floor, she found it had been
closer to an hour rather than the days it felt like. She kicked off her shoes
and sent the pants to the couch with the kick of one leg. She would dress
later, but for now, she needed a shower.

Moments
later, the hot water mercifully flowed over her body as she tried to make sense
of the day. She had destroyed the letter with the prison’s return address on it
the day it had come in the mail, though it had been later, after she had read
it more times than she could remember. That one simple line had been laced with
more poisonous undertones than if it had been as long as a Stephen King novel.

She
wanted to tell herself she didn’t know why she had gone to the prison, but it
would have been a lie. She knew perfectly well why she had gone. She had been
unable to look at him during the trial, but now she wanted to see his face, to
see what that kind of monster would look like. Only he hadn’t looked like a
monster, and even dressed in the orange jumpsuit, he had held her attention in
a commanding manner before he had even spoken her name.

She
stood in the shower long after she had turned off the water, her hands
supporting her weight as she leaned against the tile wall in front of her. It
had been a mistake, a big fucking mistake to go see him today. And while the
guilt begged her to tell Tink what she had done, she knew she wouldn’t. It
would be better to forget it ever happened, and telling him would do nothing
but hurt him, especially when he realized she had called him from the prison
parking lot in desperate need of a good hard fucking.

Lana
didn’t want to hurt anyone else; the look in Sergio’s eyes the last time they
had been together had crushed her. He had been brave and acted strong, but she
saw the pain she had caused, and she didn’t want to see that look in Tink’s
eyes too. No, her weakness was for her to endure, not to saddle anyone else
with, and with that resolve she stepped out of the shower and went about the
task of preparing Tink’s dinner. It would be ready when he walked through the
door and it would be served by a naked, apologetic Lana, one willing to be
reprimanded for interrupting his day. And if there was a just god to be found
in all of this, then Tink would be harsher than normal, and would unknowingly
punish her for the things he didn’t know about as well.

Chapter Thirty

Lori
arrived promptly at the time she had been instructed to find Sergio waiting for
her in the bedroom. As she walked through the open door, he saw she was wearing
sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt, and if he was right there would be nothing
underneath. That was as it should be since she was not here to chat or dance
the night away; she was here for his pleasure only, and his pleasure demanded
she be naked as soon as possible.

She
didn’t disappoint him in that and as soon as she had closed the bedroom door,
she took off the only two articles of clothing she had been wearing. Before him
now stood a voluptuous brunette, with remarkably ample breasts and a cleanly
shaven pussy. She really was a remarkable looking woman, and the low light of
the two candles highlighted her curves perfectly as the shadows caused by the
flickering light caused her silhouette to dance on the walls around him.

He
hadn’t asked her to shave, but he had made an offhand comment, wondering out
loud if she ever had taken a razor to that special place. Apparently she took
that as a preference and had gone about the task willingly enough. If points
were being rewarded, she would have gained some for that, but Sergio wasn’t
handing out points this night or any other; he wasn’t handing out anything for
that matter. His days of putting the need of others before his own were largely
decisively over.

None
of the other women he had recently met had given him any hope of happiness, or
at the least contentment, but Lori had been different. He had recognized it in
her from the very beginning. While the others had boasted they did not need a
safe word – this was their lifestyle, they claimed, they were there to serve,
the nastier the better – Lori had insisted on the establishment of one before
they had even taken their clothes off that first night. She had been trying him
out just as he was doing to her. And while the others had begun screaming in a
very short time, begging him to stop, she had remained quiet, the only
exceptions being the occasional moans and perfectly timed words of
appreciation. Yes, she had definitely shown some promise that first night.

“I’m
glad you came back,” he said as he crossed the room and took her hand.

“It
is my pleasure, believe me,” she said.

“The
same word as before, then?”

“Yes.”

“Say
it for me please.”

“My
safe word is
revolution
,” she said,
confirming they were indeed talking about the same word.

“Very
well, then let’s not waste any more time; what do you say?”

He
led her to the center of the floor and motioned for her to get down on her
knees. The mattress and box springs from his bed were leaning against the far
wall, and the frame itself, as well as the headboard, was in the closet as it
had been the last time they met. Adapted flat straps, generally used for towing
vehicles, came toward the center of the room from where they had been screwed
to the floor in the room’s corners. Smaller straps came from the center of the
four walls as well, but none of these straps would be necessary for the time
being however.

He
stepped in front of her and waited patiently with the black hood in his hands
as she dutifully began the task of undressing him, revealing his already
swelling manhood as an eager whimper escaped her lips. When she had gotten his
pants to his feet, he handed her the hood, and while she fastened it over her
head with the looped cables hanging loosely on her shoulders, he finished
removing his jeans and left them folded neatly in the corner of the room. When
he returned to her, her hands were crossed obediently behind her back.

Sergio
bound her hands together with the soft ropes comfortably but secure enough she
could not get free. When that was completed, he gently pulled the small cable
through the loops at the bottom of her hood and clasped it behind her neck. It
was loose enough it did not restrict her neck in any way, but tight enough it could
not be raised over her head while it was still attached. After checking to see
if she was still comfortable, he attached the stretchable bungee strap between
her hands and the hood. It would allow enough movement that she would be able
to keep the blood flowing through her arms, but do little more.

He
wrapped his fingers around the strap halfway between where it was connected on
both ends and nudged her forward. Her own weight pulled her hands upward
slightly as she neared the floor, but this process also allowed her to lower
her forehead to the carpeted floor gently. Positioning himself on his knees
just outside of her left leg, he touched the wooden paddle against her bare
flesh, measuring the proper distance to allow a smooth, comfortable swing.
Satisfied he was in the best possible position Sergio pulled the paddle away
from her skin and then returned it to its place with a fluid, crisp swing,
sending a sharp report echoing though the room as the skin on her ass immediately
began to redden.

Sergio
saw her back loosen and swag downward as she relaxed her position, falling
happily into the place she seemingly wanted to be for the foreseeable future.
He steadied the paddle against her again, and then once more took a swing that
resulted in that same echoing sharpness in the small room. He heard her whimper
slightly and smiled knowing she was as intent upon more of the same as he was.
His hand went further back and the paddle met her as with more force this time,
forcing a cry to escape her lips that signified the pleasure had been equally
matched with pain, so he repeated it again.

“Would
you like me to stop?”

“No
Sergio, please continue,” she pleaded.
 

“Call
me Ser,” he corrected her.
 

“Yes,
Ser of course, please pardon my infraction.”

Ignoring
the request for a pardon, he happily obliged her first request, repeatedly
striking her bare flesh with the paddle, stopping only when his arm began to
burn from the energy he had exerted. He placed the handle of the paddle into
one of her bound hands and generously applied lotion to her swollen ass cheeks,
gently massaging them as he rubbed it in deep enough to help soothe some of the
pain he had caused.

Sergio
wiped the lotion from his hand and lightly ran his hand up between her legs,
inciting a deep, guttural moan from Lori as he did. The paddle had never
touched the bare lips of her opening, but they too were
swollen,
only it was from her growing anticipation rather than the sting of the paddle.
He dipped two of his fingers into her slightly as he stroked upward, spreading
her natural lubrication higher several times. When he stopped long enough to
suck her sweet juices from his fingers, he made sure she heard it, and was
rewarded by seeing her begin to shift her weight from one knee to the other, as
she did the best she could to grind against her own movement.

His
first two fingers went easily inside her as she rocked back against his hand.
In the same motion, just as his fingers reached the inner most depths of her
they could, he rocked his hand forward and slid his thumb into her ass. She
squealed with delight as he began rocking the hand back and forth, alternating
the penetration for his fingers to his thumb. In a matter of moments, she was
shaking under his hand, and he knew her orgasm was building.