Named and Shamed (20 page)

Mark didn't answer her question with an affirmative, but he immediately began to untie the laces of her arm-binder. It took a few minutes before the tight ropes were released and the strapping removed. He folded the leather restraint in two and hung it over one of the spare metal waist poles. He then helped her up and with a soft cloth, cleaned her face from the debris of mashed food it had managed to accumulate. 'There, that's better. All cleaned up. Now get yourself on all fours and offer that backside to me.'

Jenny wanted to swipe the cloth from his hands, more than capable of cleaning up after herself with her arms released, but she did no such thing. Instead, she became drunk on the sight of his handsome face smiling down at her. Dressed in carefully tailored splendour, his grey suit was expertly cut and his white shirt crisp and pristine. The dark-blue silk tie was fastened in a Windsor knot and the clip of a shiny gold pen could be seen on the outside of his top left breast pocket. She wondered whether it disguised an elegant fountain pen or a boring old biro beneath such a brilliant facade. Her money would be on the fountain pen. These images and thoughts flittered quickly through her mind as she lowered her body to the floor. Her sex hungered for the caress of his fingertips and her body longed for the pain the paddle would provide. It was disturbing. She was already being indoctrinated to enjoy the perverted goings-on in this place, and it was no lie that the orgasms she'd received at Albrecht had been the best of her life. She had a suspicion that within a week, sex outside of the compound would pale unpleasantly in comparison, just as she had been warned.

The forced submission messed with her head. One second she hated it and in the next she would be begging her captor for more. If it was anyone but Mark, things might have been different. Why did he have to have such an effect on her? And why couldn't she overcome it? She found herself wanting to be his slave; yearning to cater to his every little whim and desire. Was she nuts? It certainly felt like it. The man had proved himself to be a vicious sadist. She would do well to keep that in mind and make sure her faculties remained intact.

When her fingers hit the uncompromising concrete, she immediately looked at her nails before remembering she had none. That was one less worry, she supposed. The whole of her upper body ached and protested, the arm-binder not being the kindest of restraints, but she guessed it would ease off in a few minutes' time. Either that or she'd be given something equally as painful or worse to think about.

'Open those legs wider.'

She, of course, did exactly as he said.

'Wider.' Using his paddle against her inner thighs he batted at each in turn until he had spread her legs to his satisfaction. 'Lovely.' He gave her a friendly swat with the paddle, just to watch her squirm. 'Are you wet, Petal?'

'Yes.' Whilst wincing at his use of her new name, she saw no point in lying, knowing full well he would probably check if she replied in the negative.

Another smack was delivered to each cheek, both of which had begun to take on a delicate pink tone. Jenny squirmed. He sank to his knees beside her. Facing the opposite direction to her, he used one hand to toy with her clamped nipples while the other used the paddle to exacting effect. 'I love the sound of these,' he said, flicking the tiny bells over and over with his fingers. 'So tiny, so sweet. And I love watching your ass redden under my paddle; the rosy hue you wear becomes you.' As if to emphasize his point, the paddle rained down blows in a smacking frenzy.

Jenny snorted in response. Though his blows were beginning to warm up her flesh they had yet to cause any harm.

'Oh, you think not?'

He grabbed a handful of her ass and dug his fingers in. 'Do you like the feel of this paddle against your skin?'

'Yes.'

The whispered word was music to his ears. 'I'm going to have a lovely Mahogany paddle carved just for you. We'll emblazon your name all over it. We'll have to, as it's so bloody long. Pretty Pink Petals is quite a mouthful. Or we could shorten it to "Pet". There'd be room for a sentence then. How about: "Pet's Punisher?" It has a certain, naughty ring to it.' He drew his free hand away and aimed the paddle at her ass once again, swishing it quickly from left to right and making sure that each successive stroke was harder than the last. He wanted to hear beautiful sounds coming from her lips, which were at present tightly closed. They wouldn't be for long.

Jenny wiggled. Then she squirmed. Finally, she danced. It wasn't just her backside, her whole body rotated and jiggled. The paddle was relentless. Its fiery heat was spreading warmth through her flesh that she had no control over. The sensation of being spanked, with her legs wide open and ready to be taken by this man, was exquisite. She wanted to be firmly under his thumb. She wanted to feel his cock grazing for entrance at her swollen core and she wanted to be taken. He could be hard, rough, slow, gentle; any of these and more. She wanted it all. She would take it all. When his hand finally stopped pounding her ass and dipped down the valley of her ass-cheek she bleated like a newborn lamb. She was hungry.
So very hungry
.

Mark had much the same yearnings as Jenny, but he wanted to see to her pleasure first. She had displayed exemplary submissive behaviour in front of Lyle earlier and it deserved to be rewarded. He was nothing if not fair. Moving behind her, he located the wires which dangled from her plugged holes. He used them to pump the dildos gently inside her. The sigh that escaped her lips made him smile. These were noises he wanted to hear. Curving his hand under her, he made a leisurely journey to explore the insides of her pussy, which required a visitation with one finger, then two and eventually three before a gasp of pleasure escaped.

Now his fingers were sticky and slick with her own lubrication, Mark proceeded to slide two conjoined digits, his middle and index, from the entrance of her pussy to the nub of her clit. He made tiny slippery journeys with them, forwards and back. A loud and wanton groan burst from her lips. He pulled his fingers away from her sex and reached around her face, sliding the sticky mess across her cheek. Bravely he inserted them inside her mouth, wide open and panting with exertion. He braced himself for a bite, but without being asked she sucked them, providing his fingers with yet more lubrication. It was almost too good to be true. Using the gooey liquid to expert effect his fingers circled her clit, rubbing in concentric circles and drawing out low moans of pleasure. His little pony was most definitely in heat. 'Tell me what you want,' he purred in her ear.

'I want...' She couldn't help but let out another groan of frustration as his fingers moved faster around her most sensitive sexual organ. 'I want...' Again they increased in speed and Jenny found it nearly impossible to catch her breath. 'I want to get...' Yet another cry of torment was wrenched from her.

'Laid?' Mark laughed and the sound echoed around the rafters of the cold, brick barn.

'Out of here,' Jenny finished, inordinately pleased that she'd managed to finish her sentence.

The fingers stopped. They hovered, motionless, a few millimetres above her clitoris. She mewled in protest.

'You are a stubborn one, aren't you?' Mark rolled his eyes.

'I might have heard that mentioned before, yes.' A series of complaining squeaks left her lips.

'And just what would you offer me, to get that little butt out of here?'

Jenny swung her head around, wondering if he was serious or not. When her eyes connected with his face there was no smile in sight. She managed to whisper, 'What do you want?' Whilst she still fully expected to be rescued, it wasn't a bad idea to have a reserve plan in place. Besides, curiosity had gotten the better of her. What did he want?

The fingers started again, slowly but surely. They meandered over the hills and valleys of her sex and pressed, dipped, plunged and stroked. Sublime did not even begin to describe their expertise. Squirming once more, she could do little but listen to his response in a lust-filled haze.

'I want everything,' he replied with quiet conviction. 'Everything you have to give. Your body. Your mind. Your self-control. Your thoughts. Your will. You would give it all up to me. I would have you as my slave, at my permanent beck and call, to do whatever I wished with. One moment you might dance on my fingers and in the next you might find yourself suspended from my dungeon ceiling. You would accompany me to dinner and talk pleasantries one day, and service the whims of my guests at my home on another. Would you like that? Obeying my every order? Experiencing more pleasure than you ever thought yourself capable of?' Picking up the paddle again he began to spank her ass in earnest, while his fingers continued their frenzied exploration.

Jenny was fighting two things at once; a turbulent anger that threatened to implode from her chest and her near impending orgasm, which would explode from a lower part of her anatomy. 'I would rather rot in hell, here,' she bit out. The sound of laughter only served to infuriate her further.

'That's what I thought. The good news is that I can do virtually all the same things to you here. No escape is needed.' His fingers hummed across her swollen clit with the speed of lightning. Her body desperately craved the release his fingers could provide. She had fallen under his spell with little effort on his part. Jenny ached to be filled. Already imagining his cock, plunging back and forth inside her body, she nearly came on the spot, but his fingers stiffened and held back as soon as they realised how close she was. Jenny screamed and heard her pain ricochet off the walls, mixed with the annoying sound of his laughter.

'You may come for me, Pet. Now.' He pulled on the wires that held the dildos embedded inside her and each popped free as she began to scream out her pleasure.

Jenny's heart was beating fast. It had nothing to do with the orgasm now ripping its way through her body. Her eyes had hardened into thin slits, and though she rode on a blissful pane of heaven her mind was a separate entity to her body. Equal parts of fear and adrenaline flowed through her and she warred with them. A flash of gold pierced her brain. Its light was blinding. She had waited, under his hands, like a perfect prefect would wait for a pat on the back. Biding her time with patience she hadn't know she possessed. Breathing in and out, though the effort required was great and the feel of air in her lungs painful. Could she do this? He would never know what hit him. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. What if rescue never arrived? What if she was stuck here and forced to be a sexual plaything for an eternity of mean Masters and cruel games. What if. Her body was a sea of delicious waves, but she barely felt them.

Rolling onto her back she used the momentum of her movement to push through her lower body and set herself in front of Mark, on her knees. In a single beat of her pounding heart she snatched the gold pen from his pocket and tore the lid off. She was rewarded with success. It was a fountain pen with a sharply pointed nib.
Oh, there was a God
. Holding the slim object tightly in her fist she aimed for his jugular and gave an almighty stab forward.

Naughty Lessons

It had been a long time since Mark had felt pain anywhere near the level just thrust upon him. His first action was to subdue the threat in front of him, which he did by giving her a brutal shove. Although it was an automatic retaliation that he had little control over, it was a low blow. The guilt hit him instantly, hard as a sucker punch, when he watched her hit the floor hard and flail around like an overturned ladybird.

Pulling the pen from his neck and letting it drop to the floor, he rubbed his eyes and clenched his jaw. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. 'Shit. I'm sorry.' Coming around to her side he offered his hand to help her up. She backed away from him like a frightened mouse and scrabbled to right herself to her knees.

'What are you going to do to me?' she whispered, watching as a slow red stain began to spread across the bleached white collar of his shirt.

Mark did not like the fear her luminous blue eyes were now projecting at him. 'Nothing, except send you on your way, which is probably what I should have done in the first place.' He sighed. 'There's a reason we keep you guys restrained.' He picked up the arm-binder and moved behind her. 'Arms together and clasp your wrists.' She immediately did as told. He guessed she figured she was in enough trouble already. 'Are you hurt?'

'Do you care?'

Another sigh. 'If you pull that stunt with anyone here but me, you'll probably end up in the dungeon for a week and you won't be a pretty sight at the end of it. What were you thinking? Daniel is waiting just outside the door so it isn't likely you were going to get very far. If you do get the chance to escape, for God's sake use your weapon wisely. You don't have enough weight or force behind you to do much damage with a pen - enough that would debilitate an attacker of my size, at any rate. Go for the eyes or groin. You might gain a few minutes if you're lucky, but it's a big risk.'

She remained silent as he fastened the last of her ties, pulling her posture fiercely upright once more. 'Are you OK?'

A tiny sound which was probably 'yes' was mumbled in front of him. He didn't let her get away with it and repeated his question, adding more volume and bite.

'I've had worse.' She cracked her jaw and loosened her neck, swinging it from side to side. There was nothing much to worry about.

'From who?' Mark narrowed his eyes and gave her a disbelieving look.

'Never mind.' Her jaw hardened and her body stiffened.

Mark's brain whirred at that little snippet of information.
Who? What? When? Where?
Watching as her eyes remained glued to his neck, he realised that now was not a particularly good time to prize information out of her. There was no rush, he supposed. They would have all the time in the world very shortly. Placing two fingers over the puncture wound in his neck and pressing hard to stem the blood flow, he changed the direction of the conversation. Inveigling information out of Miss Redcliff would not be a chore. She would tell him everything he wanted to know shortly, regardless.