Plan B

Master had warned her once that he wouldn't let her go easily.

"Twenty strokes. Wiggle that ass and show me how much you want it," Master ordered.

Connie straddled the narrow wooden bench and tried not to think as she twirled and swung her hips obediently as he landed thirty strokes on her upturned ass. The slim silver chain threaded through the ring at the front of her leather collar and clamped lightly to her nipples tugged lusciously at her tender flesh as she gyrated.

"Faster," he told her, and she obeyed. This will be the last time, she reminded herself, silently counting the paddle strokes.

This was the last day of their contract, and Master had warned her when she'd arrived at the abandoned warehouse that he would make it memorable. But she'd finally had enough of his particular brand of fun. On his orders, she'd serviced every man -- and several women -- in his circle of playmates while took photos, but she hadn't been allowed an orgasm for six months.

And that's what she'd told him when he'd asked her a month ago to continue their contract. "Do whatever you want with the photos," she'd told him. "There will be consequences for you as well. Just remember that."

Paddling finished, he ordered her to lie on her back on the bench with her hands at her sides. He knelt beside her to cuff her wrists to the bench's metal legs. Her ankles were next, but he had a surprise for her. A spreader bar dangled from the ceiling, and he lifted her ankles to cuff them to either end of the bar.

When he was done, Connie lay on the bench with her legs raised and spread in a wide "V," leaving her breasts, her ass and her pussy completely exposed.

Master knelt between her legs to fasten a slim leather belt around her waist, and a second later, Connie gasped as he pushed a huge vibrator up into her pussy, inserting it fully. She had to thrust her hips up off the bench to take the monstrous vibrator all the way into her body, and she squealed a little as Master turned it, adjusting it so that the little "finger" that extended from the thick plastic shaft rested snugly against her neglected clit. The anal plug was next, and she flinched at the cool trickle of lube between her ass cheeks. Master smeared a layer of lube on the plug itself, then told her to take a deep breath as he pushed it up into her in a single, firm stroke. She groaned a little when it finally slid past the tight ring of muscle, stretching and filling her completely.

"Lift up," he ordered her, and she raised her hips again as he fastened a second leather belt to the one around her waist, threading it through the ring in the base of the ass plug and pulling it taut to hold the vibrator in place before fastening it in front again to the original belt.

Connie squealed louder when he turned the vibrator on, her hips bucking involuntarily as the monster began buzzing insistently between her legs.

"Pay attention," he said calmly, and Connie tried to ignore the growing heat building between her legs. "I'm going to lock the door with this padlock when I leave in a minute. You'll need to give the combination to whoever comes to get you out of here. I suggest you repeat it after me, because I'm only going to tell you twice. It's 6, 17, 43, 5. Repeat it."

"What?" She yelped as he tugged the nipple chain hard. She was so close to coming. "What are you doing?"

"The combination is 6, 17, 43, 5. Repeat it."

Another tug, then another. "6, 17, 43, 5," she babbled, then screamed as an intense orgasm shot through her body.

"Now open your mouth and suck me dry," he ordered. "And you'd better memorize that combination, because you won't be able to call me for help."

Then he was fucking her mouth, making her gag a little as he thrust deeper and deeper. She whimpered, trying to tongue and suck him, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything but the whirr between her legs and the tugs and pulls at her poor nipples.

She came twice before Master did, hips bucking involuntarily off the rough wooden bench.

"What's the combination?" he demanded, zipping himself up.

Connie moaned, trying to remember. "17...no....6, 17, 43, 5." Another tug, and she was coming again, moaning with pleasure and helpless humiliation as her body responded to the relentless vibrator.

"I'm going to lock you in now. In an hour, I'll call someone to come and get you, but you'll have to give them the combination or wait for them to find some way to cut the padlock off." He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him. "Enjoy your orgasm."

He wiped her face clean with a towel, flipped the lights off, and then he was gone. Connie called out to him not to leave her, but he didn't answer. She watched him close the door, heard him click the padlock in place and then heard his footsteps as he walked away, leaving her there in the darkness.

She was sure, for the first half-hour or so, that he would come back, that the price for setting her free would be an extension of their contract. She bit her lip, determined not to let him hear her come as one orgasm after another rippled through her.

She was limp with exhaustion and dripping with sweat when she realized that he really had abandoned her here. Her body responded readily to the vibrator, and she was coming more intensely, more rapidly as the vibe buzzed steadily between her legs.

Her back and legs ached, and she found that raising her hips eased the pressure, but the movement just drove the vibrator and the plug deeper inside her, making her come even harder.

She tried to distract herself by wondering who Master would call to free her. The police? That would be an additional layer of humiliation. She worked for the District Attorney's office and knew many of the cops who worked in this part of town. And there would be an official report, which would effectively end her career.

The fire department? Not much of an improvement, she thought. They'd call the police and then two official agencies would be privy to her humiliation.

She pictured half a dozen cops and firefighters gathered around the bench to watch her writhe and wonder just what the hell was going on. She could almost see their hard-ons tenting their uniform trousers as one of the detectives she had a crush on discovered the anal plug and called the others in for a closer look....

And then she was coming again, harder than ever, hard enough that she was sobbing and gasping for breath when her climax finally ended.

She heard herself panting, felt the blood pounding in her ears as her body grew calmer. She shifted a little, trying to raise her hips a bit, and stretched her arms and legs as much as she could. She could only imagine how she must look, stuffed full and spread open for anyone who cared to look. Connie sighed and shifted again, trying to get more comfortable. The bench's rough wooden surface felt good under her skin. She was exhausted, but still horny, she acknowledged, and then her clit began to twitch again and she felt her pussy contract around the vibrator that filled her, and she groaned, knowing another orgasm was imminent.

A heartbeat later, she was coming, almost screaming as her hips ground futilely. Every time she came, her body's bucking motion caused the chain to pull at her nipples, and the tug went straight to her too-eager clit. The slim leather belt fastened tight between her legs didn't just hold the vibrator against her clit; it created its own constant friction against the overheated little nub. The stimulation was constant and overwhelming.

But it wasn't enough. She wanted the weight of a man's body over hers, she thought, and her pussy clenched at the idea. Even with the monstrous plastic cock filling her, all she really wanted was to be fucked senseless.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on just breathing.

But all she really wanted was a cock, hot and thick and pumping her hard. She could just imagine it, her tied helplessly to the bench as two, no, three uniformed cops waited their turn to fuck her while the firefighters lined up for her mouth. She could feel their fingers tormenting her nipples, their hands kneading and smacking her ass as their cocks pounded into her pussy.

And then she was coming again, her body spasming in exhausted pleasure. She sweated and writhed, but could barely do more than moan when she thought she heard something just outside the locked door.

Her body stilled for a second and she tried to catch her breath when a voice called out, "Connie?"

Oh, God, she thought, panicking as she recognized the voice.

"Connie, it's Mike. Are you in there? Are you all right?"

No, no, no....Not her boss. For a second, she thought she might be too panicked to come again, but the familiar flush of heat began building as Mike pounded at the door. "Connie, the door's locked. Are you all right?"

He wore wing tips, she thought, and respectable striped tied and three-piece suits. And several months ago, before he'd been made her boss, he'd asked her out repeatedly. She'd refused politely every time.

They had nothing in common, she'd explained, but he'd always countered with a new strategy. "There's always a Plan B," he'd told her, and a day or two later, he'd ask her out again.

How in God's name could she explain this? And how had Master known to call Mike?

And then she was coming again, unable to keep from groaning as the pounding at the door grew more frenzied. "Connie!"

"I'm here," she called back weakly. Her throat was so dry that she could barely talk. "I'm all right."

"There's a padlock on the door. I'll call the police and tell them to bring a bolt-cutter," Mike said. He sounded much calmer.

"No!" God, she thought, no cops. "I know the combination. It's...." Her mind went blank, then she heard Master's voice, remembered the slap of the paddle on her bare skin. "It's 6, 17, 43, 5."

"What?"

She heard him fumbling, and repeated the numbers again, more slowly. He muttered a few curse words, then she heard a click and the door swung open as he entered the room.

"Jesus, are you all right? Where are the lights?" He found the switch somehow and Connie winced as the lights came on.

The room fell silent except for Connie's ragged breathing as he caught sight of her. He just stared for a few seconds and she wanted to die, wanted the earth to open up and swallow her as she felt him take in her predicament.

His face was almost expressionless when he asked, "Who did this?"

"Please, just get me out of here," Connie said. "Please, Mike."

"Were you kidnapped? Is this related to a case? Tell me who did this!"

He stood over her, just staring down at her, and she could feel his eyes slide from the collar and nipple chain to her crotch, the black plastic vibrator, the leather belts, her restless hips. Her poor clit was so hyper-stimulated that she couldn't keep still now, couldn't catch her breath. She was in a near-constant state of orgasm, and it was sheer torture.

"Is this some kind of game?" he finally asked.

Connie wanted to howl as another wave of heat began building. "Please, Mike. I really can't take much more."

"Tell me exactly what is going on here -- and I mean exactly -- or I will leave, lock that door again and call the cops to tell them someone phoned in a tip that an ADA is being held hostage at this address," he said, slipping one index finger under her nipple chain and lifting his finger just enough to barely pull at the poor little buds. "And you can explain yourself to the SWAT team."

And then she was howling, almost shrieking as the most intense orgasm yet slammed through her, forcing her hips to thrust up wildly. Mike watched her writhe and moan, taking in her flushed skin and wild dark hair.

When her breathing was almost normal, he hooked his finger in the chain. "Tell me everything" -- a firm tug punctuated each syllable and Connie blubbered with exhaustion and humiliation -- "or I will leave you here and call the cops."

She could only sob for several seconds until he yanked hard at the chain, making her yelp. A second later, he was tugging each clamp, stretching her nipples taut and she was babbling, telling him about the photos, the games, the other men, and finally, her decision to leave their arrangement.

"And this is his revenge?" Mike said. "Leaving you like this?"

"Yes," she said, and started sobbing again.

"Well, that gibes pretty well with the pictures he's been sending me for the last month or so," he said.

Connie was so exhausted that it took a minute for his words to sink in. "Pictures?" she said weakly.

"Mm-hmm. You photograph well, I have to say. Those red boots? That's a good look for you," he said. He unfastened the clamp on her right nipple, then the left and Connie couldn't help groaning with relief. "And the ass plug with the pink feathers? Yowza."

The memory of Master ordering her to shake her tail feathers made her blush, then blanch. Then Mike was touching her, his palms feather light against her nipples. "What are you doing?" she asked. His touch grew surer, kneading the warm flesh of her breasts, sending an electric jolt through her. "Mike, stop it!"

"You're really not in a position to make any demands," he said calmly. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, then rolled them lightly between his fingers. "But I gotta say, I really like my position."

Connie groaned, shaking her head in protest as she felt another orgasm approaching. "Please don't," she said.

Mike kept one hand on her breast while he unfastened his trousers and drew his half-hard cock out with the other. He rubbed the shaft lightly over her face until he was fully erect, then laid the head against her lips. "Kiss it," he ordered, and she closed her eyes and brushed her lips lightly against it. "You're going to suck me while you come. Start with my balls. I want a nice, wet tongue bath, and I want you to show me how much you enjoy it."

And then he was straddling her, pulling her head back as he half-knelt over her. She opened her mouth, knowing she really had no choice, and began lapping at him. He smelled good, she thought, clean but masculine, his velvety sac salty and warm to the taste. She licked him slowly and thoroughly as he fondled her breasts. Her hips moved in little circles as she felt her own orgasm building oh, so slowly this time, a little white-hot bubble swelling gradually at her center.

"Take them in your mouth," Mike instructed his voice a little ragged. She opened wide, taking him in, wrapping her lips lightly around him. He groaned, hips jerking, when she began tonguing him, then sucking him. "That's it. You know what to do."

He pinched her nipples hard and she whimpered, her hips bucking as the sensation went straight to her clit. "Like that?" He pinched her again. "Now my cock. I want to feel you come with me in your mouth."

She opened her mouth to him and he thrust in hard, tilting her head back to force her to take him deeper. She ran her tongue along his rigid shaft as he slowly fucked her mouth. His hands wandered from her breasts to her sides, fingers trailing lightly along her ribcage, then he was rubbing her stomach and leaning forward so that he could stroke her mound.

Connie whimpered a little as he ran his hands over her swollen pussy lips, but kept licking. She swirled her tongue over the tip of his cock, tasting him. Her clit was buzzing; she was just at the edge of coming, but the vibrator seemed to be slowing and she wondered if the batteries were finally dying.

Mike parted her labia, fingers tracing her dripping-wet folds and she moaned around his cock, hips jerking at his touch.

He thrust more deeply into her mouth. "Oh, I know where you want my cock," he teased, and began pumping steadily. He slipped a finger under the leather belt that rested against her clit, under the vibrator's buzzing little finger, and began rubbing her clit directly. His touch made her squeal and buck and wrap her lips more tightly around his cock. "That's right," Mike crooned, tweaking and strumming her clit until she was humping shamelessly against his fingers. "Take my cock. You love it don't you? Do you want it in your pussy? Do you want me fucking that pretty cunt?"

Yes, yes, yes, she thought, suddenly desperate to come as she opened her mouth wider for him. He thrust in hard, forcing her deep-throat him, and then came with a deep groan, hips jerking wildly in her mouth. His fingers kept working her clit as he poured into her, and then she was coming, squirming under his hand as she swallowed his cum.

He ordered her to lick him clean, and she complied. He kept playing with her while she cleaned him up, making her come twice more.

Finally, he pulled his hand away and straightened up his clothing.

"Let me tell you how this will work," he said, the dry edge back in his voice. "You and I will begin our own arrangement, or those photos your former friend sent me will end up on our boss's desk. From now on, I own you, 24/7. You will obey me without question, and this your first order: You will have no further contact with your former friend. If he tries to force the situation, tell me, and I'll deal with it. I can and will make his life very unpleasant. Any questions?"

Connie closed her eyes, not sure she'd ever felt so defeated. She'd never been blackmailed into sexual submission before. "No questions," she said.

Mike leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Cheer up," he said, kneeling to unfasten the cuffs at her wrists. "This'll be a lot more fun than that dinner you turned down."

The following Monday, he entered his office to find her waiting for him, just as he'd instructed. She was bent over his desk, ass high, legs wide, naked except for her garter belt and stockings and simple black pumps. She'd placed the paddle on the desk to her right.

Thirty strokes every morning, he'd told her, and she was to count them out loud. On the tenth stroke, she gasped when he slipped one hand between her legs to seek out her clit. "Keep counting," he told her calmly, fingers stroking steadily. "Make a mistake, and we'll start over."

By the 25th stroke, she was coming hard, bucking under the paddle, but somehow managing to keep the count straight.

She was still panting when Mike told her to put the paddle away and get dressed. "It's important to establish a routine, don't you think?" he asked. "This is how we'll start every morning."

She was just about to leave to head to her own office when he called her back, and she noticed the twinkle in his dark eyes. "We have dinner reservations for 8:30," he said.

She just stared, not sure how to respond to this new mood. He winked at her. "Just imagine what I'll do to you if you're late," he said softly, and Connie felt herself blushing. He winked again. "8:30, baby."

She wandered back to her office, equally enjoying the twinges in her backside and between her legs. Pulling her office door closed, she let herself consider his blackmail threat, the paddling, the orgasm he'd just given her.

"Dinner reservations," she said aloud.

A minute or two later, Mike heard her laughter drift down the hall and grinned.

Always a Plan B.