Bound & Free Ch. 04

Tristan felt his penis stiffen as they walked. He protectively turned his body away from Alice, shifted his gait. He tried all those dumb tricks boys did to try and hide an erection. What he couldn't do was stop the lurid images flashing through his mind. Dull beige rope digging into lustrous dark chocolate skin. Her body quivering. Her chest heaving, her naked breasts capped with stiff charcoal nipples, straining for sensation as she pulled halfheartedly against her bonds. He would watch as her expression changed from surprise to mingled anticipation and uncertainty, enjoying it despite herself, hating and loving her submission. Just like Stacy.

Alice looked at Tristan, concern on her face. Dismay shot through him - fuck, she'd seen!

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Are you okay?" her voice full of concern.

Don't care for me, I'm a monster.

"I, I..." Tristan stuttered, "Sorry."

"What?" Alice asked, a pretty frown blemishing her features. "No, you've got that bandage on around your neck."

"A band... oh! Yes, I'm fine. It was uhh... a dog. A dog bit me." Tristan rubbed it self-consciously.

"A dog." Alice said, deadpan.

She clearly didn't believe him. He didn't budge.

"A big, spoiled, disobedient dog. Her owner needs to punish her more severely. I had to take care of it. I'm surprised I'm not frothing at the mouth."

"I'm surprised too." she said, frowning at him suspiciously.

A few moments passed, in uncomfortable silence. In the distance a group of wide-eyed high school students were being shown around the campus. A couple of people threw a frisbee to one another, but a dog snatched it from the air and ran off, with them in hot pursuit.

Change the subject, Tristan!

"Are you obedient?" Fuck - not that subject, imbecile!

"Eww! I'm calling HR!" she whooped, laughing.

So she'd slipped back into their roleplay. How long would they keep this up?

"I'm not some animal, I don't obey anyone!" she stated emphatically, more serious now. "What's wrong with you, asking me something like that?"

That's right, what the hell was he doing? He started to apologize. She... wait a second. Despite the recrimination, she was smiling. Looking more closely, she was blushing again, ever so slightly, her angelic face slightly darker. If he hadn't spent most of the day with her he'd have missed it. A surge of residual lust rushed through him.

"So you're disobedient too." He replied before he could stop himself.

He missed her reaction. Some cold calculating part of him had just definitively increased its pool of potential victims from one to two. That came with a wave of self-recrimination. She was a person, not an object - what was he doing, collecting virtual pets in some crappy computer game? She had her own hopes and dreams, and certainly none of them involved being... Focus, Tristan, this isn't the time for this argument. We'll do this later.

"Is that the sort of organization you're running, boss?" Alice asked playfully. "A spanking after lunch, that sort of thing?"

He had to get himself back into the mindset. Ready? Good. Now say something before it becomes awkward.

"Yes. That's the only type of organization worth running, Alice." He said, seriously.

Alice almost tripped over her own feet.

"I can't believe you said yes! You're so filthy! Oh that's awful!" she squealed, erupting with scandalized laughter. "I can't even imagine that. All miniskirts and tight blouses with missing buttons. Disgusting!"

"Oh dear - however can I persuade you to join us now you've said that?" he said with mock concern, "Perhaps in your new role, I can offer you... multiple positions?"

"That's so cheesy!" she slapped his shoulder in disapproval.

"Alright, fine. Perhaps I'll just tie you to a desk, then. Literally, if you don't behave." he frowned at her with mock severity.

"What, like assigned seating?" she replied immediately.

"No, like rope." he quipped.

"Oh my..." She blinked at him for a second before laughing uproariously. "For a second there I actually thought you were serious!"

He had been serious. He had to stop this! Icy cold sweat was rolling down his back. That's the closest he'd ever come to hinting at his proclivities - to anyone. Let alone a woman he was alone with. He'd been walking the tightrope for several minutes now. One wobble and she would run away screaming. What was it about Alice that lowered his inhibitions? The words were flowing from him like nuclear waste from a corroded barrel. He had to be more careful or she would - no, he had to escape!

"Well, Ms Alice, it was a pleasure interviewing you."

"Oh! Already? But..." she trailed off.

Great. That was a happy accident. He'd unintentionally ended up taking his dad's advice - always leave people wanting more.

"Sorry, I have a lecture to attend." a white lie, it was in an hour, but he really had to go before he fucked everything up.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" she asked, hopefully.

"Sure. I would love to have you on my team." he said truthfully.

She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then closed it.

"Bye boss." she said in a small voice.

He wasn't equipped to decipher that, so he just left. When he was back outside the library, well out of her sight, he mentally kicked himself.

What the fuck was he doing? Why was he saying those things, taking so many stupid risks? Had the thing with Stacy messed with him to that degree? Were there really so many other female suitors lined up around the block he could afford to gamble this relationship away? How many others were there, Tristan? Stacy didn't count as a relationship prospect, so...

Zero.

Right. He had to bring himself back under control. He had to rein in this fetish while he still could.

~~~~

Alice had done it again. She'd scared another one off, she thought morosely. But at the end he had said he wanted her. That was positive - maybe she still had a chance. Why did she even want this guy? If she was honest with herself, she'd admit it was because of her curiosity. There was the geeky misfit Emily had described to her before her date. Then there was the playboy who kept getting approached by women. Maybe her competitiveness played a small part too.

She stared at his retreating back, feeling a little flushed. Her heartbeat was only starting to return to normal now he'd gone. She must have been sweating more than she thought, that was the only possible explanation for the dampness between her thighs. His company and all this talk of fetishes had her off-balance.

Even as she watched, another woman, a redhead, approached Tristan and asked him a question. It was too perfect, as if she'd been waiting around for him to be unattended. The girl was some athletic cheerleader type. The kind of woman who intimidated her, made her feel inferior. That type of girl was the reason Alice never went out without spending over an hour on her hair and makeup, transforming herself into someone as much like - well, them - as she could. Daily. Except for today, when she needed to do an urgent piece of research.

She pulled self-consciously at her simple yellow dress, feeling ashamed. Of all the days to go out without bothering to get ready, why did it have to be today? Tristan hadn't seemed to mind, though. Maybe she could skip some of the routine if they ended up together.

Actually he seemed even more himself today, funnier, happier somehow. Perhaps something good had happened. Maybe, she dared to think, it was their date, before that Stacy woman had interrupted. Alice frowned. Tristan had never denied it when she'd mentioned stringing along multiple women. And where did he get off claiming he was a virgin? Ludicrous, that liar. No-one with the personality he'd shown her and with that many women hanging around could be one, no matter what his fetish was. She idly wondered what it could be, that fetish he didn't want to tell her. By the way he'd tensed up she could tell it was important. There were so many possibilities...

A nervous heartbeat or two later she saw the woman stomp off, irritated. Yeah, bitch, hands off. She felt like running up to Tristan and giving him a high five. Or a kiss. She blushed again, deeper this time.

Where was she? Oh yes, on one side was the rumored geek, the other side was the apparent playboy. Then somewhere in between was the funny guy she'd spent the last few hours with. The hours she should have spent researching her paper. The one which was due in three days. She didn't have time for this introspection.

"Fuck!" Alice exclaimed, startling a couple of guys nearby.

They both quickly left the area, muttering. Another two chased off. No matter - she had someone she was interested in now.

~~~~

Stacy had been forced to take matters into her own hands. This was all Tristan's fault. Tristan and the sheer incompetence of the sheep. Both her agents had failed. They were less than useless. That meant person A didn't get an introduction to the cute jock who owed Stacy a favor. That meant person B didn't get a bump in grade from Stacy's sycophant helping the professor grade the Business essays. It was inconsiderate, that's what it was. She already had plans in place to leverage these changes into new power for herself. Tristan's roommate? He was the worst of all, a deadbeat who simply denied knowing Tristan.

Her informants had told her Tristan was at the library, so off she marched. Her short plaid skirt swished as she walked, a counterpoint to her ice blonde ponytail bobbing around madly, both glistening in the sun. Hopefully that would distract most people from her mood. She was not in full control of her emotions, she knew that. But she would not be denied. Sexual frustration mingled with righteous fury in her breast. If there's one thing nobody did, it was lie to her.

"Useless, useless!" she said, her anger spilling over into vocalization.

"Stacy?" a voice said, right in front of her.

She stopped so quickly she almost fell over. Fuck, it was Tristan! Why wasn't he in the library like her spies had said? Yet another fuckup. They were all so damn useless.

"What are you doing here? I-I mean..." He stuttered, audibly nervous.

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. No way she'd let him dictate the interaction. She wouldn't get sucked back into his pace, not this time.

She just frowned at him. That wasn't enough. It didn't properly convey her anger. She poked him in his shoulder, as hard as she could. Better. He winced. Great.

"What's the deal with giving me a fake number?" she hissed, her face red with fury. "What kind of game are you playing? You think I'm going to..."

He just looked at her, inscrutable. Maybe he was waiting for her to run out of steam. Maybe he just didn't care.

He wiggled the fingers in his outstretched hand slightly, calling attention to it. She was transported back to that booth, to his palm grinding against her clit, his delicious digits cupping her ass. She could almost feel it, relive it. As she'd done several times since. Goosebumps rose on her thighs and arms. She shivered. Fuck. Fight it. She wasn't this easy.

It was like her body was on a completely different wavelength. It was getting her ready for another session. He had to stop that!

"Stop that!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "We're in public."

He smiled coolly, no longer any trace of doubt in his bearing or his voice.

"I'll count that as a handshake." he said arrogantly, the bastard. "So - how can I help?"

"Don't pretend you don't know, asshole!" she prodded his shoulder again, as hard as she could. " I..."

He interrupted her before she could really get going.

"You can ask politely. If it's about my cell number, I must written it incorrectly. I apologize. In fact, if you'll give me a pen, I will rectify that." he stared at her.

What? Oh, the pen and paper. She handed them to him, and he kept his promise, returning her pen but slipping the paper into his pocket. She wanted to ask for that paper back, but it was too gauche, too eager. Beneath her.

"Come get this from me later, when you remember how to ask for something nicely." Tristan patted his pocket. "But on the subject of misdemeanors, all those women asking me for my number earlier, did you send them?"

Busted. She couldn't suppress the chagrined look which surfaced, as unwelcome as a shark at the beach.

"Well yes, I did ask for a favor or three, but you lied..." she explained, trying to get back on topic.

"And you're here now, outside the library we left less than an hour ago." He paused, his tone severe. "Did you or did you not promise me you wouldn't interrupt me and Alice again?"

His confident speech further incited her anger, heating it to a rolling boil. It was like he shaped each word so it'd hit her pride with a mallet. The vibrations of these metaphorical impacts stirred her heart and caused tingles of arousal between her legs.

"Yes, but you weren't on a date. And I didn't interrupt, so..." she explained, hating the feeling of impotence.

"But your lackey did. And it was a date." he stated.

Her elegant features twisted into a frown.

"It didn't look like one." she replied.

"Be that as it may, it was still our second date. Despite the fact we were not fucking behind the bookshelves or whatever it is the cool kids do." he shook his head in disappointment, like she was a wayward child.

She actually stomped her foot in frustration. Until this moment she didn't think people did that in real life. And now she'd fucking done it! She wanted a crack to open up in the ground and swallow her whole.

"Argh, I..." she started.

"Shh."

"Did you just..."

"Shh."

"I'm a grown woman, don't you..."

"Shh."

She stopped, seething in impotent fury.

"Good. You've been a very naughty girl."

A shiver of pleasure surged through her at the promise in his tone. She tried to burn holes in him with her glare, but she didn't attempt to speak.

"I wonder what a suitable punishment would be. Hmm."

He tapped his chin exaggeratedly. Stacy rolled her eyes, but otherwise made no other movement.

"Ah, Eureka! Wait right there. And don't move." Tristan ordered smugly.

Stacy tried to focus on something else. Wait, was that blood on his shirt, near where she'd poked him? And that bandage on his neck - was he okay? Sudden concern filled her, but before she could say anything he'd walked behind her, out of her sight.

She tried to find the impetus to move and failed. It was like her body didn't belong to her, she was just along for the ride. Something kept her still. It was partly curiosity. It was the embarrassing memories they'd made together in tiny rooms. It was a perverse desire to please him. These things tied her in place like his belt had, like her coat (which by the way was forever changed just as she'd feared, a shadow of its former self).

So there she was, on a public path, in the middle of the day, right in the center of campus. Birds chirped, the sun shined, and a pervert was right behind her.

Why was he behind her? What was he going to do? How dare he do this to her at all. Standing still like this felt so deliciously similar to being tied up, but with no restraints at all, other than his words. They held her in place as tightly as rope would. Because, undeniably, she wanted them to. Some rope sounded good, but she was sure that neither of them had any on them. Maybe next time he would...

That person in the distance, was that her Math tutor? She felt fear rise in her like a wave. No, it was a false alarm, that was just some old guy. Stacy's fear flowed away, right to her pussy. She shivered with mixed lust and embarrassment. It was a strange emotion, one she was becoming intimately familiar with. She was getting wet again. This was becoming a thing; it seemed she was always wet around Tristan.

What was Tristan going to do to her, right here where anyone could see? Reputation, as her father said, took years to build and seconds to ruin. With a single wrong move he could destroy it utterly. Why did that feel so right? Stacy had one hell of a reputation to maintain. There were people visible in the distance, though, blessedly, no-one walking nearby. The thought was no comfort. She'd seen twenty people she knew just on the short walk here, and three of them had stopped her for some inane reason. None of them could be treated rudely, lest it bring the whole machine crashing down.

A cool breeze blew. She could smell the grass and, mortifyingly, hints of her own arousal. The wind stole some of the warmth from her thighs and penetrated beneath her skirt.

A very different feeling replaced it a moment later.

'SMACK!'

Her nerves, too slowly, reported dozens of little pinpricks of pain, each strobing on and off for a moment before reappearing nearby.

The sound was loud even outdoors. She thought she heard it echo over the nearby buildings, but that may have been her imagination. He'd spanked her - SPANKED her! Right here! In front of the library! In the middle of the day! Her humiliation was immeasurable, stratospheric. She felt her vagina convulse.

She gasped, stumbling forward a step.

"That's for sending someone else to do your dirty work." his voice quiet but impossible to ignore.

'SMACK!'

A second hit came unexpectedly, more forceful than the first. The sound reverberated in her ears, drowning out everything else.

"That's for disobeying me." she felt more than heard his words.

She opened her mouth to moan with pleasure, to complain, to ask for another. She didn't know which. Her brain wasn't working.

'SMACK!'

"And that's for being impolite."

Her ass sizzled, the whole area warmer than the rest of her. All Stacy knew for certain is that was going to need a new pair of panties now. She was wearing a skirt, like an idiot. She had to change before her excitement started running down her thighs, revealing her perversion to whoever cared to look.

"If you want another, you will have to ask me for it." he mandated, his words law. "Say Master, please can I have another."

At last he'd stopped. Was it over? Did... did it have to be?

"Masss..." Stacy hissed, before she could stop herself.

She dragged herself back from the brink. Her eyes stung, tears of frustration beaded in their corners. Her pride, such as it was, fought back. Call him Master? No. She never would, she told herself, her rear end throbbing. Still fixed in place, her eyes forward.

She was her own master. Everyone looked up to her. Other people should call her master. That's right, people obeyed her, no the other way around. She should order him to spank her again. Wait, that wasn't right...

By the time she pulled herself back together and was able to think straight again, several minutes had passed. She looked around in panic, expecting dozens of her peers to be laughing, her friends to be uploading it to social media, her parents to somehow be standing there with their trademark world-ending fury. There was nothing. Someone she vaguely recognized passed her, giving her a respectful nod.

Surely... surely someone had seen? Right? There's no way that wasn't obvious to everyone.

Or maybe that was her own conceit. Maybe that was what Tristan was trying to tell her, that she wasn't the center of the universe. Maybe she gave that asshole too much credit and he wanted to do exactly what he'd just done, didn't give a shit about her or the ramifications to her plans. She turned to give him a piece of her mind, but couldn't see him anywhere.

She stomped her foot impotently again. He had her behaving like a little girl - fucking Tristan! This is not who she was! She was losing more and more control of herself each time they met.

There was no point calling attention to herself by standing here motionless. She started to walk back to her sorority, feeling her sex tingle as she walked, the occasional breeze meandering by and reminding her of her soaked panties. She adjusted her gait a bit, trying to rub her pussy lips together as she walked. It was undignified, yes, but it was what she needed.