Bound & Free Ch. 08

Somewhat recovered, she opened her mouth as wide as she could and engulfed the head of his penis again, being careful of her teeth. She felt him enter her mouth, his flesh yielding slightly but hard as iron within. Her jaw stretched as she opened wider than she was used to. Far too soon, she was at her limit, his length huge and full inside her, holding her tongue down, nudging the back of her mouth.

Her vagina throbbed, empty, greedily demanding to explore Tristan herself. Soon, she promised herself. Really, really soon. But this was about him.

"Hmmph!" he moaned. "That feels great, St... slave."

She tried to force her head down further, to his hips, but she gagged every time she tried to push herself. Frustrated at herself, she pulled back, licking the sensitive ride under the tip of his penis. As the thought, she took a moment to enjoy the smooth velvet feel of the head. She detected a slight taste of salt from his precum.

"Back... er... back to work, slave." he said, urgency in his voice.

She felt a pull on her hair, thousands of her follicles drawn taut by his hand. Maybe he could help. He already held her hair in his fist. Stacy put one hand over his, pushed it forward, pushing herself down his shaft. While he hesitated, she wrapped her other arm around his waist, tightly gripping his ass. Ah, maybe she had a new favorite feature now. This felt amazing, the firm muscle, its slight flex. She cursed herself for not taking his jeans fully off so she could have a look.

"That's it. Good girl." he groaned.

As he said that she felt a spark of pleasure surge through her, electric.

After a moment of slight hesitation Tristan finally understood what she meant. Stacy felt his hand tug her hair, loved the feeling of responding to him, everything else cast aside. She congratulated herself for coming up with this. Kneeling like this, his hands on her head, it was like he controlled her whole body. She could just be. It really worked for her. The pressure forced her down further than she could normally go, his cushiony head nudging her tonsils, pushing back. Her body convulsed involuntarily, gagging though she tried to suppress it. She tried to cough around the intruder boring into her mouth.

"If you keep that I'm gonna..." he moaned, cutting himself off.

"Mmmph" Stacy acknowledged, her mouth straining around his cock.

For a moment the only sound in the library were the slight vocalizations she made each time his cock tried to enter her throat.

Tristan moaned again. His fingers tightened in her hair, almost painful. She redoubled her efforts.

"Stacy, slave," he said, frantic, trying to pull her head back. "I-I... I."

Reluctantly, Stacy obeyed his unspoken directive, pulling back off him.

Just as her lips slipped from the end of his dick, she felt it swell further.

Tristan groaned deeply, almost a growl.

The end became dark with blood.

Stacy pulled back further and let him explode all over her. Thick ropes of his seed surged forth, hitting her face, her breasts. She moved her body so it landed where she wanted it, surprising herself. It felt endless but was just a few seconds in reality. In the aftermath his hot cum covered her, felt like it was scalding her. In a way it had. Stacy moaned in enjoyment, in sympathy, in sheer joyful triumph.

This was usually when Stacy expected shame to arrive. Any second now... but instead she felt a small pang of regret. Why hadn't she thought to aim just a little in her mouth? She couldn't just scoop some up, unless Master wanted her to. She looked at him hopefully but from the look in his eyes he was on a different planet for the foreseeable future. This didn't make sense. In the past Stacy had reluctantly let her boyfriend or girlfriend cum on her, but she'd never been into it. In fact Stacy had always tried to pretend she wasn't there, she'd found it demeaning. With Tristan, not only had she aimed his cum at herself, she was feeling only an embarrassing sense of pride, she wanted to do it again. How she'd changed. Maybe all it took was the right guy.

"Mmph!" a muffled feminine cry came from right behind her. "Oh, fuck yes!"

What was that noise? That wasn't her. It definitely wasn't Tristan. It was coming from behind the bookcase!

"Hello?" Stacy asked frostily.

Her haughty tone disguised the fear in her voice. Her gravitas was slightly ruined by the cum dripping from her nude body. As if determined to ruin her image further Stacy crawled to the shelf on her hands and knees, so she could peer through the gap between books. Her blood thundered in her ears. What if... how could she spin this...

Between the dusty volumes Stacy could see into the other aisle. Fuck, fuck, fuck! They'd had an audience after all. It was a young woman, her eyes tightly shut, her shoulders shaking with... well, judging by that hand down the front of her jeans, the girl was feeling the last few waves of a pretty good orgasm. Not as good as Stacy's had been, but that was a ridiculously high bar to set. Maybe she could be reasoned with. It's not like the woman was free of sin after all, and she'd clearly liked what she'd seen. Wait, she looked familiar... black skin so lustrous it almost glowed, a strong athletic body she could stroke for days, far too much make-up... she knew this girl. She'd kissed her.

The voyeur apparently felt she was being watched. Her eyes opened and looked toward her little peep-hole. She saw Stacy's eyes. Stacy relished the look of utter horror on the woman's face. She'd been caught red-handed, so to speak. Maybe all was not lost yet.

"Stacy!" the girl shrieked, scooting backward.

"Alice!" Tristan exclaimed, dismayed.

He ran down the length of the bookshelf, pausing only to throw Stacy her coat. Stacy left it on the floor - she'd been caught already, what was the point? If her body distracted their opponent - and it almost certainly did, judging by the evidence - then to improve her negotiating position she'd be better off remaining completely naked. Also, she'd ruined a perfectly wonderful moment. Stacy both sulked and panicked at the same time.

Within moments Tristan was leading her - Alice - back around toward her. Nice guy, he wasn't about to abandon Stacy like a used tissue. She'd chosen a great Master.

Stacy scanned the other woman as they approached. This could be a disaster if mismanaged. Game face on, Stacy. Cum-covered game face - she wiped it off as best she could onto her designer coat. Oh the things that garment had been through. Finally, they stopped, a couple of steps away. Tristan released her, moved away as he tended to. He said nothing. Unbelievable.

Stacy took the time to appreciate Alice's subtle curves. One of Alice's hands was still shining with her ambrosia. Her movements were full of nervous energy, looking to her, to Tristan, to the floor. She looked ashamed. You'd have thought Alice was the one caught giving a blowjob to her Master in public. So this was the girl next door? Maybe not exactly. She would have to refine her mental profile. It'd be worth getting a background check on her too.

Stacy locked eyes with her. She felt a strange kinship with the woman, as different as they were. They were both exploring things with Tristan. Not to mention that kiss. She wondered how Alice would respond to this situation. She was important to Tristan, so Stacy wanted to be friendly, at least at first. She still wanted to mess with her. She wanted another kiss. Then she had a great idea how to do both.

"Hey Alice - want to share?" she offered.

Stacy ran a finger over her chest. She extended it to Alice, dripping with Tristan's cum.

Alice's mouth opened; she even took a step forward. Then she shut it. Stacy struggled to keep her composure - the test had worked! Alice wanted it, really wanted it bad! Alice took a step back, stopped. Stacy could see the look in Alice's eyes, the decision form. Alice started to take another, quicker step back. This was the tipping point. Stacy could sway things, and she made a different choice than logic dictated - not out of compassion, but out of pure delight at how singularly kinky this moment was.

Stacy lunged forward, pressed her finger to Alice's open lips. Wonderfully, automatically, Alice opened her mouth. Stacy's pale finger disappeared into Alice's sweet dark crimson lips. White ice penetrating burning coal skin. Alice shuddered, and her eyes closed. Stacy felt her cynicism melting away. She felt Alice's wet heat, her slight suction. The woman's tongue swirled around her fingertip, over her nail. Cleaning every trace. Stacy felt her enthusiasm, thought absently she'd have to teach her some technique.

What a surprisingly dirty girl Alice was. She looked naïve, easily embarrassed, somewhat immature. But in contrast she'd been kissing Stacy deeply the other day. A moment ago she'd been masturbating while watching them from behind the bookshelf, like a perverted stalker. Now she was still sucking Stacy's finger so eagerly; she'd finished that drop of Tristan's cum long ago. Obviously she wasn't all she seemed. Maybe Stacy had misread Alice. Perhaps they weren't competing at all, possibly she could be more of a... companion?

Having a wicked thought, Stacy lifted Alice's hand, the one still covered in glistening honey from her furtive efforts earlier, before they'd caught her. Stacy kissed it, licked it tentatively. She ran her coral pink muscle up and down Alice's dusky extremity, thousands of tastebuds firing in tandem. Alice's flavor flowed into Stacy - she was earthy, tasting of almonds just like her lips, with a deeper hint of sweetness. It was a slight promise of cherry. That fruity tang filled her mind, inviting her to seek it out. Her nostrils flared - why did she find it so delicious? As if thinking the same thing, Alice moaned and fellated Stacy's index finger more rapidly, zealously.

Stacy licked Alice's hand again, top to bottom. As if Stacy were a puppy. Wait - just what was Stacy thinking? Nuzzling this woman, lapping up her excitement like it was an offered treat. Stacy hadn't even checked to see if Tristan was watching! Why was she doing this, just reciprocally sucking Alice's finger? Because she wanted to, without any sort of plan? Freely? That wasn't like her. She didn't even know her background, or Tristan's. She'd read no reports, concocted no schemes covering this. It was unthinkable! It was incredible. Her arousal flared; intense, joyful... free. When had she last felt like this? Had she ever felt like this? What about Alice?

Stacy examined Alice's face just as her eyes opened, their heated gazes finding one another. They shared a moment, both of them surprised at how easily they'd gotten into this, both sharing their pleasure and their incendiary lust. Frighteningly, Stacy felt herself be drawn into Alice's eyes ever more deeply, but rather than look away, she persisted. She'd gotten used to letting go when Tristan was beside her. He'd protect her. And so Stacy was pulled deeper, and an ephemeral attraction started to coalesce between them, even a spark of sisterhood.

Stacy saw Alice's eyes widen, and she could actually see the unwelcome notes of doubt and self-consciousness seeping into the girl. Was this how Tristan felt, when reading her? It was addictive. Then the moment was shattered, whatever magic had beguiled them broken. Perhaps they'd do better next time.

Alice fell suddenly, her knees buckling. Stacy caught her awkwardly. Alice's clothing pressed uncomfortably into Stacy's naked skin. Alice started to slip out of her grip. An instant later Stacy felt Tristan's surprisingly strong arms beside hers, helping to prop Alice up. Alice's forearm brushed Stacy's chest, her breasts, and Tristan's cum there. Then Alice regained her strength, standing by herself, away from the two of them. On Stacy's skin were clear impressions of Alice's blouse. Its buttons and ridges debossed into her like a lingering memory. Stacy was no longer perfect, and that was fine.

Alice regained her feet, staring at the smeared mess on her sleeve. She looked at Tristan, her expression inscrutable. Then with one last look at Stacy, Alice turned away and fled.

~~~~

Oh crap! The icy fingers of guilt gripped Tristan, squeezing his heart. She'd run, it was a rejection, as clear as anything. He couldn't blame her, after what she'd seen. It was one thing to know there was another woman but completely different to actually witness it. He should... but no. Stacy was here, nude, relying on him, probably exhausted. He stayed, though he knew it would mean he'd lost his best chance of speaking with Alice. Ethically there was no other choice, to leave her now he'd have to actually be as horrible as Alice thought he was.

"Stacy... am I am monster?" Tristan asked.

Stacy stared at him for a moment in surprise. Then she laughed, and his eyes were drawn to her breasts, of course. She caught him, and laughed harder, holding her hands out to the side. Stupid pervert. Focus!

"I-I mean ever since I knew I liked the idea of dominating someone, I was afraid..." he trailed off. "Would you please stop laughing?!"

Obediently, Stacy stopped immediately. Was she just that responsive to him or was it a fake laugh?

"Yes, Master." she said with a sly smile.

Her smeared lipstick nevertheless still provided a sheen to her lips. He looked at her breasts again, this time for evidence his memory of cumming all over her wasn't mere fantasy. There it was, a smeared, semi-transparent sheen. Incredible.

"You like it, so do it." Stacy shrugged. "If your partner agrees, and no-one else is hurt, then who cares? I like it, obviously."

She tugged on her collar for emphasis. She absently played with the little silver charm with his name.

"Even... was her name Alice?" Stacy asked, and Tristan nodded. "Sorry, learning names takes me ages. Well even Alice likes it. Three votes yes. I had my own dilemma about this, but hearing you ask that," she shook her head, "Makes me realize we should just enjoy what we enjoy without burdening ourselves with a moral judgement."

"And are you okay?" he asked, tentatively.

"What does your instinct tell you?" Stacy enquired, playfully posing for him. "Mas-ter?"

"Oh. Well, have a nice life." He said sadly, and Stacy rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Your master knows you love it, slave. Your collar proves it. I guess seeing Alice run off like that made me doubt myself."

"She'd have to be an idiot not to love what you do." Stacy sighed, stretching. "I feel so relaxed right now. Like myself. I don't know how I'm going to live without this after I graduate."

Stunned, Tristan could only stare at her bug-eyed. Graduation? Sure they were alone together in the middle of the library, but this was unbelievable. She liked this little game enough she wanted to play it for that long? What about her boyfriend? How could Tristan keep her entertained for that long? Don't panic. There's no doubt she was just talking in the moment. She blew him a kiss, probably misunderstanding his confused expression.

"One woman not enough for you? You are an animal, Master." she teased him, while picking up her coat. "'Curse my lurid appetites, just what have I awoken?'"

Tristan knew that quote, that tone of voice. He'd heard it many times; his D&D cohort often said it. But the reference was impossible, coming from her.

"Wait, was that Melorin? From Beaphix 5?" Tristan asked disbelievingly, unable to restrain himself.

Still nude, Stacy blushed, bright red.

"I... er... I might have watched an episode or two..." her voice cracked as Tristan stared at her, "... hundred."

She looked away. Now it was his turn to laugh while she tried to hide her face. She was more complex than he thought. The idea of them liking similar things was like imagining suddenly conjuring fire from his fingertip. Completely ridiculous. She rallied a moment later.

"What, I can't like sci-fi?" she said indignantly.

The idea of her displeasure would have forced him to retract the topic before, but he knew how to get his point across - and now he had the balls to try and explain.

"You must admit, my slave, you've cultivated something of an image." he explained smoothly.

Tristan was about to congratulate himself, but stopped. She didn't have a witty response? She... He saw Stacy crumple into herself as if he'd crushed her. Fuck, that wasn't what he'd intended at all! He wasn't expecting her reaction to be quite so extreme. Tears came to her eyes, and she buried her face in her hands. Was she just pretending to be strong all along?

Each one of her damp sniffs gouged a fresh wound in his conscience. Who's not a monster now, Tristan? He hesitated a moment, wanting to comfort her but wondering if he was allowed to touch her now. Ridiculous, Tristan - the woman is wearing your cum. And your collar. And that's it. What do you think? He went over to her and knelt, putting his arms around her protectively.

Stacy buried her face in his chest, as if she'd been waiting for his nearness. The wetness from her silent tears dampened his t-shirt. He put her coat back around her shoulders, and hugged her to him. He would hold her for as long as she wanted. He idly noted how her hair smelled of something floral. Was it still damp? It had been ages, how long did a girl's hair take to dry? Or was this sweat from her exertion? Don't try to change the topic, Tristan! He'd done something awful even if he didn't know what. He'd broken Stacy!

"I do, I mean I did, I..." Stacy sniffed. "I'm - the image... it's not me. Not really. All this is fake. My friends, my so-called personality, even my family's power. My fucking God, I'm a hot mess."

Tristan opened his mouth to ask, but then shut it again. He could tell nothing would be as unwelcome as his prying. She'd tell him if she wanted to.

"Aren't you even going to ask?" she challenged him. "I've just told you I'm a complete fraud!"

"If you want to tell me, I'll listen. Don't forget, slave, I know you better than you think." he said with false confidence.

It seemed to work.

"Th-thank you, Master." she lifted her head and wiped her eyes, seeming to find strength from somewhere. "I... I'm not ready. I want to tell someone, but I'm afraid I won't be able to go on if I put it in words. I'm not sure I ever can. I know, first world problems. Others have real issues."

"Your Master is here whenever you need him." Tristan assured her.

"Thanks, 'my Master'." she said, smiling through her wet lashes at him, her makeup atrocious. "Can you get my phone, please? I don't want to move."

He dug through a pocket, pulling out her device.

She unlocked it, scrolled through her calendar with a businesslike expression. He looked; he couldn't help himself. Appointments were listed every ten minutes, one on top of another. She checked her call history.

"That's strange." Stacy said to herself, sounding concerned.

"What?" Tristan asked. "The fact you don't have reception down here? Sorry, that's..."

"Mm? Oh, no, not that. I've got a fair signal. No, it's my parents." Stacy bit her lip. "They haven't called me for two hours."

"Two hours?" he said, with shock.

~~~~

Tristan's nervousness bled into Stacy, penetrated the little cocoon she'd made here in the aisle, insulated from her life by her coat, his arms and all these books.

"Sure, they generally check in on me every 90 minutes in the evenings." Stacy explained absently.

Were they okay? Should she call? Could she? They were busy people. She'd just be disturbing them. She put her lingerie back on and refastened her coat while she thought. If she called them unannounced it'd just lead to another argument. Better to wait for the scheduled slot. Which they'd missed. They rarely missed it. What had happened? Why was Tristan staring at her? His eyes were wide, surprised. She shot him an enquiring look but he just shrugged. Fine, don't explain then. Men.