Never Alone

Suddenly the bathroom door swings open. "What are you doing?" Greta's jaw drops at the sight of her imprisoner.

"I...I'm sorry...sir." She hopes the addition will score her some points with the angry man in the doorway.

"Rinse off and come out here immediately. No need to dry off or get dressed." Fearing she might anger him more, she quickly finishes up her bath and wraps a towel around herself.

CHAPTER 6: Dinner Party

Greta steps out of the bathroom hesitantly, clenching her towel to her chest. Her body shivers with anticipation and cold in the drafty room. She has already disobeyed him multiple times today.

"Did I tell you to put a towel on?" She immediately drops it in response and he motions for her to come to him. She obeys, not wanting to anger him further.

When he says, "On your knees," she obeys straightaway. His foot taps the inside of her knee and she spreads her thighs wider. She glances up and is met with smoldering eyes – dangerous and full of lust. "Head down... good girl. Stay."

He leaves the room and she wonders how long he plans on leaving her there. She doesn't dare break her position. When he returns, she resists the temptation to look up at him. The clink of metal by the bed makes her cringe and she tenses as his footsteps near.

He cups her chin gently, tilting it up to meet his steely gaze. "You're going to be sore tonight." With the casualness in his voice, he could've been telling her the time, but the message... threat... promise sends a shiver straight to her core, the muscles at the apex of her thighs clenching in a most delicious way.

She takes hold of his hand when it enters her field of vision and he helps her to her feet before leading her gently to the bed. These gentlemanlike actions don't fool her, but she feels herself being pulled under his spell if only for a moment.

"Center of the bed, arms above your head." She hesitates, understanding his intentions as he gathers the chains and moves toward the headboard. "I don't like to wait, Greta."

She obeys, scooting herself to the middle of the oversized bed and raising her arms so that her hands barely clear the top of her head. When he snaps his fingers she offers him her wrist, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling high above her.

He slowly makes his way to the opposite side of the bed, never taking his hungry eyes off her. After both arms are shackled, he slides a silky mask over her eyes. She opens her mouth to protest. Having her movement restricted was one thing, but for some reason the loss of one of her senses scares her.

"Don't you like the blindfold, my pet?" She shakes her head in a small jerk, almost unperceivable. "You like to know what's coming don't you?" Her nod is equally unconfident. His footsteps retreat and she squirms uncomfortably, anticipating his next move.

His hands appear on either side of her head, brushing her hair back behind her ears. The gentle touch is disarming and she melts beneath him. That is, until she feels something other than his fingers touch her ears. He leans in, inserting the ear buds and it tickles her neck when he breaths, "Now you really won't know what's coming." She pulls at the restraints, knowing that taking out her frustration verbally would be a bad idea.

"Stay still. That's an order." His voice is so smooth and sexy despite the command it carries. With that, music erupts in her ears, cutting her completely off from the bedroom where she is tethered.

A haunting voice, acapella and beautiful, is soon joined by others in an ethereal choir. The ghostly melody drags Greta towards another world entirely, calming her breathing and relaxing her entire body.

Something soft brushes her breast and she jumps back to reality for a moment, only to be pulled back by the mesmerizing music as the feather dances across her body. She can feel the pressure inside her building with the song even though he's hardly touched her.

The soft, sensual torture device traces her jaw, her collar bone. It tickles her ribs before crossing her body at her hips, which she raises in invitation. The feather disappears until she relaxes again and it reappears at her ankle, making its way up the inside of her leg. When it touches her overly sensitive sex, she jolts.

Down the opposite leg. Swirling around her toes. Back up the other side. Circles on her stomach. It takes all her will power to keep from writhing beneath his exquisite torment. Meanwhile the music swells with more angelic voices overlapping and intertwining.

His hands. Their strength vastly opposes the delicate caress of the feather. A moan escapes her lips as her breasts are molded by robust, fervent hands. His mouth is on her neck, surely leaving marks where he's pulled the blood to the surface. She cries out as he pinches her sensitive buds while simultaneously biting her ear.

Then his mouth is smothering her own, stifling her vocalizations. He rests his weight on her, his tongue still forcing its way into her mouth while he releases one of her wrists. In a flash he is off her and roughly flips her onto her stomach.

They are both panting – hot and bothered – when he gets off the bed to fetch his next tool. The anticipation is killing her and her sense of time is altered as she waits for his return. The music changes into something charged with energy... and passion... and Oh!

The bite of the flogger on her vulnerable bottom stings then fades into a pleasurable burn as choir-like voices sing into her ears. Instinctively she reaches to protect herself with her free arm, but it is quickly ensnared and pinned to her back. The steady beat pounds through the earbuds and she is unable to hear her captor.

She is horizontal on the bed now, one armed still handcuffed to the headboard and her head dangling off the side where he is standing over her. The flogger connects with her skin again, matching a crescendo in the music perfectly.

Again and again he rains blows across her reddening mounds as a strange tribal-sounding flute wails. She rubs her legs together in attempt to slow the buildup of pressure and clenching of muscles down there. He rolls her onto her back and drops onto the bed with her, knowing she's close to climax.

The ear buds are yanked from her ears before he plunges three fingers into her aching opening. He is perfectly still, breathing a little heavy but otherwise motionless and still inside her. When she grinds her hips in attempt to bring herself to release, he bites down hard on her beautifully pink, erect nipple.

When he takes the blindfold off, he is staring into her eyes only inches from her face. She gasps at the intensity of his stare. "This," he says while jerking his fingers in and out quickly to emphasize what he's referring to, "...is mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes... Yes Sir." Her voice is shaky with need.

Without another word, he replaces the cuff on her free wrist and tethers her feet to the other corners as well. Finally he replaces the blindfold and exits, leaving her frustrated and desperate.

Greta is unsure how much time has passed when she hears the door open again.

Have I fallen asleep?

The mattress sinks between her legs and there is a welcomed feeling against her sex. Unceremoniously, the turgid member is forced inside and her back arches, her limbs pulling against their restraints. Within moments, she feels that familiar sensation.

"Please... may I..." but her voice trails off when he drives himself in deep.

"No baby. You don't have permission yet." That voice, that chuckle is not familiar. Greta immediately starts fighting with the restraints. Naked thighs appear on either side of her head.

"Shhh... my pet." It's His voice now and it calms her. "Open up." She obeys, grateful that she is not alone with this stranger. They both drill into her over and over again and she's moaning uncontrollably.

When her mouth is free for a moment she begs incoherently, receiving conditional release, "When I do, you have my permission." Her mouth is filled again and she pulls him to the back of her throat. He lets out a soft guttural groan and it doesn't take long with her mouth in overdrive for him to start to spasm.

Her own body is racked with an overwhelming orgasm like none she's ever felt before. The stranger moans as she clenches around him. He drives into her roughly, sending her reeling over and over until he too falls over the edge.

"Good girl." She doesn't move as the two men dismount and her shackles are removed. By the time she regains her sight, the stranger is gone. "Go shower. You have ten minutes. Someone will attend to you when you're finished."

Greta's legs can hardly carry her to the shower where she stands in a daze. Wishing she can stay under the scalding water forever but knowing she cannot, she hurries to finish and get back to the bedroom. Sure enough, someone is waiting.

A table is set up in the middle of the room and the harsh-looking woman there motions for Greta to climb onto it. Her towel is snatched from her before she can argue and after much waxing and plucking, she is rubbed down with a liquid that makes her skin tingle and shine. The woman directs her to a chair where she tames Greta's wavy red hair and applies makeup. Finally she hands her a pair of lacy red panties.

"Is this it?" The woman only smirks at Greta's question and motions for her to follow. Greta crosses her arms around her nakedness as they make their way down to the empty dining room. Well, empty for now.

It sounds like a whole crowd of people a few rooms over. The color drains from Greta's face and her legs threaten to give out. Lucky for her, she doesn't have to stand much longer. She is escorted to the oversized table and helped onto it by two tall, intimidating men. Just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she is mortified when they reach under the table and extend leather cuffs from some hidden place.

Without thinking, she jumps off the table and bolts towards the door. To no one's surprise, including her own, she is entrapped in the strong arms of her master. She melts in his arms as he asks, "Going somewhere?"

"No Sir," she squeaks.

"That's what I thought. The table needs to be set so the rest of us can eat. You're not going to cause problems are you?"

"No... Sir."

"And you're not going to embarrass me are you? I don't think you want to add more to the punishments you already have coming." She marvels at how smooth his voice sounds.

"I... I won't."

"Good girl. You look beautiful. Get back on the table." She is thrown by the compliment and can only comply. He handcuffs her hands above her head before pulling her farther down the table until her arms are strained. Her ankles are cuffed as well and he tightens the straps so all four limbs are stretched and immobile. "Behave and don't move. Don't speak either. I want the tablescape to be a surprise and I have guests to attend to."

He exits with a smile, leaving her feeling more vulnerable for some reason. She does her best to slip away and ignore what is going on – people placing food on and around her body, rearranging and examining their work as if a girl is not lying naked beneath it.

Then the sounds of voices move closer and she tenses. All those people are about to see her naked. She's about to be the centerpiece at a dinner party.

CHAPTER 7: Three's a Crowd

Greta's arms are already beginning to ache from being tethered on the table. The restraints allow for very little movement but she doesn't dare move anyway. He told her not to; it could mess up the tablescape. The food that was so artfully placed on and around her nearly-naked body might slip or shift and she's already in so much trouble.

I don't think you want to add more to the punishments you already have coming.

Then there are the footsteps. So many of them. She risks a glance to the doorway of the dining room. How can he look so wonderfully attractive when he's the one putting her through this embarrassment?

"Absolutely breathtaking," he breaths as he reaches the table. "And yes, I mean you." Part of Greta melts because of his sensual and seemingly-sincere praise. "I'd like to eat like this every night."

Instinctively she cringes away from his touch but her inner goddess is arching her back, offering herself to his experienced hands as they navigate the dip between her breasts. Her subconscious loses and his brow wrinkles. "Don't be afraid of me. Try to enjoy yourself. We'll certainly be having fun later." With a mischievous smirk, he leaves.

Greta's eyes stay trained on the ceiling while a crowd of people surround her. Her face is consumed by a mask of redness as they remark on how wonderful the table looks. Although most of what she hears is compliments, she tries her best to tune it all out.

"Hey baby, remember me?" a familiar voice asks. The face is not familiar, of course, because she was blindfolded last they encountered each other. She doesn't respond, only looks away from the overly-confident boyish grin. "Aww don't act like you didn't enjoy yourself," he says, caressing her arm.

"Disrupting the décor, Jase?"

"Your little minx won't admit she enjoyed herself earlier."

"We'll coax it out of her later." As usual, his ominous comment sends shivers down her spine. Greta shrinks back when Jase slides his fingers beneath the greenery covering her breasts. "Leave her be, Jase."

"Come on, Liam. We're just having a little fun, aren't we?" he asks Greta, whose facial expression is anything but pleased. He gives her nipple a sharp squeeze.

"I'm not going to ask you again," Liam warns, his face darkening. Greta has seen that face before; he is deadly serious. Jase simply shrugs it off.

"Laters, baby." His fingers slide off her body much too slowly.

"Take the guests back into the other room. Dinner is over." Jase does as he's told and the room finally begins to empty. Just when Greta thinks she is alone at last, footsteps approach the table, his footsteps.

He undoes the bindings on her wrists first, gently kissing the red marks left on each of them. His fingers draw lazy circles down her body, down her legs before releasing those as well. His feathery kisses encircle her ankles before making a tingling trail up her leg, his hands clearing the way of food debris.

She is fully aware that she is slipping under his spell, but she doesn't care. If she's stuck here, she might as well enjoy it when he is in one of his rare good moods. His hot breath on her silk panties sends her hips up off the table, but he doesn't linger. The stubble on his chin tickles the valley between her breasts as his mouth suckles her neck.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight," he sighs in her ear before straightening up and helping her off the table. "Go upstairs and get cleaned up. Get some rest too. I'll be up once my guests leave." He plants a soft kiss on her forehead then swats her ass playfully when she turns toward the door. She takes her time in the steamy shower, trying to relax.

What does he have planned tonight?

There are no clothes in the room so she slips under the covers in the oversized bed naked. Anything she puts on will be coming off anyway. Despite the fear and anticipation, she manages to slip into a deep sleep.

Falling asleep naked seems like a horrible idea when she is awoken by the blankets being torn off her unceremoniously. "Naked and ready. He certainly found himself a little slut didn't he?" Jase mocks. Her struggles are too little too late when she wakes up enough to realize he is locking a collar around her neck.

He tugs roughly on the attached leash and she scrambles out of bed as quickly as possible to follow him out the door and down the hall. They enter a dark room. As her eyes adjust, she sees foreign instruments lining the walls and strange furniture littered about.

Then she sees him on the far wall sitting on what could be construed as a throne. "On your knees." Her legs buckle immediately. "Jase, bring her to me."

Greta crawls towards him slowly while Jase pulls on her leash. The entire situation is completely degrading, but the clenching of her nether muscles is unmistakable. Jase hands over the leash and her master wraps it around his hand, reeling her in.

"Unbutton my pants," he demands, but when she lifts her hands, he jerks on her collar. "No hands." As she is struggling with the button in her mouth, a whip cuts through the air. She cries out and loses any progress she had made. "He won't stop until my pants are off."

Jase continues his onslaught as promised until Greta forces the button through and unzips the zipper with her teeth at which point, Liam rises and slides his pants off, freeing his manhood. When he shortens the leash, she knows exactly what to do.

Meanwhile, Jase choses another tool from the infinite selection. A buzzing starts behind her and she leans forward when she feels it against her puckered hole. "Noo..." she moans.

He forces it inside roughly in response. She squirms and protests around her master's member. Jase pulls it in an out rapidly, twisting the vibrator cruelly. Then his hands are on her hips while he kneels behind her. He pushes inside her dripping quim in one thrust, forcing the vibrator deeper into her other orifice.

Suddenly the pace inside her mouth quickens and seed spills down her throat. At once, all the intruders vanish and she feels uncomfortably empty and needing release. "Crawl," her master demands. He leads her away from the throne and then pulls her to her feet.

From somewhere above, he pulls down handcuffs, quickly trapping her wrists and retracting the chain into the ceiling until her feet barely touch the floor. Jase sets a strange stool down next to her and they lift her onto it, impaling her with an oversized attached dildo. She moans and tries to lift herself off it, but she's on her tiptoes now.

"You won't want this dry," Jase tells her, pressing a large object against her lips. When she realizes what it is, she immediately objects to the use of it. "Suit yourself."

"No, please. Sorry. That's not what I meant." After a look from Liam, he returns it to her mouth and she wets it enthusiastically. Jase takes it back after a moment and disappears behind her to insert the enormous butt plug while her master appears in front of her with another torture device.

She shouts as her nipple is squeezed between metal and her vocalizations grow louder as her behind is filled passed what she ever thought she could handle. While distracted by Jase, her second nipple is pinched, both of them now attached by a metal chain.

Squirming only increases the building pressure, making the invaders rub her inside both openings and causing the chain between her breasts to swing. She is overwhelmed by an insane mix of discomfort and pleasure. Just when she thinks she's regaining some sense of control over her body's crazy responses, lips smother her own. He slips a blindfold over her eyes and steps away.

She strains her ears for any hint as to what is coming next. She flinches at the sound of the flogger before it even bites her skin. Her hips buck, starting a wave of responses from the other devices. "I'm going to make you cum like this," he whispers from behind her.

Then it begins.

The lash of the flogger. The tug of the chain on her overly-sensitive nipples. The friction of the tool skewering her. The stretching caused by the plug. Her limbs are cramping, causing more writhing, causing more friction.

She is embarrassed by the arousal she is experiencing from this apparatus, without any human contact at all. The pleasure is getting overwhelming. "I... I..."

"Not yet. You don't have permission. Stay still."