My Pretend Sex Slave 04

I let myself out and locked the door behind me.

I'll find you tomorrow. I made a promise last night that I greatly look forward to keep.

Brett.

The note felt dangerous. The words were softer than "I love you," but they were also in writing. I did it anyway. I liked the mix of practical and aspirational. Humor and mundane details of life giving us both the cover to see the real emotion underneath.

If she asked me later, I could find videos of artists online turning math, high frequency vibrations and sand, in to art, a metaphor for the two of us. It would work.

This was the second time in a week I avoided sure-fire sex with Jett in pursuit of "the right thing." It was stupid before, and it was stupid now.

But I needed to stop acting like a sex addict and start acting like a boyfriend. I checked my watch. The Applied Stat group would be meeting tonight, and I still had time to make it.

I should call... Ava? No that wasn't right. Mia. I would give Mia a call.

--

My phone rang. It was morning. Early. The sun was up, but barely.

"Hello?"

"Brett," Jett said. She sounded alert.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Where are you?"

"Home?"

"Why are you in your stupid apartment," she said, "when you could be inside me."

That woke my ass up quick.

It was just after seven. My first class was a couple hours away. Also, I did not give a shit about my first class.

"I'm on my way," I said.

"Is your car still in the shop?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'll come to you," she said. I felt the urgency in her voice. It was the best sound I could imagine.

There had been an idea rattling around my head for the past few days, ever sense Jett had shown interest in the Lisa spanking story.

"Jett," I said. "Bring your rope."

I heard a deep breath.

"Done," she said.

--

I spent my time getting ready. I found a drywall hook, a loop of metal meant to hang pictures on, and stuck it right above the head of my bed. It would work. My heart was racing. My idea was a good one, but it made me nervous.

"What are you doing home?" Lisa asked. She was walking between her bedroom and the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.

"It's a long story," I said. I needed her to leave. Her first class was soon, but I didn't remember exactly when.

"So things are--"

"They're good," I said.

"What's wrong with you?"

Then Jett knocked on the door. Lisa had the toothbrush in her mouth, a mild foam of white toothpaste along the edges of her lips.

She arched her eyebrows at me.

I moved past her and opened the door.

Jett looked wonderful, beautiful, rested. Hazel eyes were bright, far more awake than I was. She even had on makeup, subdued pink gloss on her lips and the edge of mascara around her eyelids. For me.

She had a gym back slung over her shoulder and was wearing an orange hoodie, not zipped all the way up, exposing her pale chest. I saw hard nipples poking against the soft fabric. There was nothing under the hoodie, no shirt or bra. Minuscule gym shorts and flip flops completed the ensemble. It was designed for easy removal.

I understood. My cock understood as well.

"Hey Brett," she said. Her voice was almost a whisper, coy, like a Marilyn Monroe impression.

"Hey Jett," I smiled.

Her eyes shifted to my lips for just a moment, then she pounced, almost jumping in to my arms, her body smashed against mine, gym bag bouncing to the ground.

I felt all of her at once, my hands wrapped around her tight ass. Small breasts pressed against my chest. The tacky feel of her lipstick on my lips as we kissed. I didn't need to pull her close, all she needed was my support as our bodies pressed together, my leg between hers.

"I missed you so much," she said.

Then we were kissing again.

"Okay, wow," Lisa said behind us. "You two going to fuck in the living room this time?"

Jett pulled away, but her eyes never left mine.

"Wherever you like," she whispered to me, excluding Lisa. "I don't give a fuck about her."

I was racking up win after win this morning. Lisa's impact on my relationship weighed heavy on me most of the time. I kissed Jett again, communicating a 'thank you' with my lips and tongue.

"I have a better idea," I whispered. "You have the rope?"

Hazel eyes stared in to mine. She nodded. "In the bag."

Jett unzipped her hoodie. As it fell open, it hid her nipples but exposed everything else, tight stomach and hips, the edge of her dark tattoo. She truly didn't care about Lisa.

She sauntered to my bedroom. Lisa's eyes followed every sway of her hips. I grabbed the gym bag and followed.

"You going to leave the door open?" Lisa asked.

"Go to class," I said.

Jett slid the hoodie off her shoulders as she entered my bedroom. Dimples where her back met her ass, the tattoo wrapping up to her back. The faint outline of ribs and shoulder blades.

I shut the door behind us, making brief eye contact with Lisa. She flashed a lopsided half smile.

As I turned, Jett's lips were on mine again. My cock pressed against her stomach.

"I want you," she said. "Please."

I didn't bother to respond, only pressing my cock against her.

She reached for her shorts, ready to slink them off.

"No wait," I said, suddenly out of breath.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I have a surprise," I said.

"Me too," she said back.

I opened her gym back, every second my eyes were away from her, on some stupid zipper, felt painful. I ripped the bag open.

Jet was watching my every move. She bit her lip, white teeth pulling on soft pink lips. I was desperate to kiss her.

I felt something sharp in her bag. The hell? I looked down, not rope. Barbed wire.

"Jett..." I started.

"It's okay," she stepped forward, her voice was warm. Soft. "Do what you were going to do, but use that."

As she spoke she drew closer, her wild animal energy subdued. I was hyper aware of her languid body language, soft breaths carrying soft words.

"I trust you," she said.

I pulled the barbed wire out. It was loosely coiled together, stiffer than rope. It would have been hard to work with, but it was already formed to fit around delicate wrists.

I thought of Lisa. The photoshoot. Of course this was the same wire, ready for us to use again.

I looked up at Jett. She nodded. This was a message, an apology. Recognizing I was jealous, but then accepting, validating, and then fixing. She was including me this time. It was my turn to tie someone up in barbed wire.

"Give me your wrists," I said. I needed to get this next part right.

She held her slender hands out to me, pressed together.

"No, cross them over," I said.

"You must have spent some time thinking on this," she said.

She crossed her wrists over. I slipped the barbed wire over them. It wasn't tight like real rope. It was ceremonial, touching her skin but just barely. I wasn't sure it would work.

"I've spent time," I said. "I've... I've thought of doing everything to you."

"Like what?" she whispered.

I led her to my bed, admiring her body, long legs and slender arms. Tight ass and pale thighs. When she reached the edge of the bed, Jett looked at me, unsure exactly how to ascend with her hands wrapped up.

I put my arms around her ass and shoulders and lifted her on to the bed. Her eyes lit up, a bright smile as I bounced her to the bed.

"I like this," she said.

"Hands," I commanded.

She gave me her petite wrists. I stretched her arms up above her head, catching on the drywall hook.

"Try not to move," I said. I watched the barbed wire poke against her skin. It would be okay. We just had to watch it.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said.

I had spent days missing Jett, wanting to be with her, just be around her even separate from sex. But now she was here, arms bound above her head, long body stretched out...

Jett spread her legs and arched her back, watching me watch. I pulled off my shirt and shorts, leaving only underwear. Her eyes drifted down to my cock. It was so obviously hard.

"So..." she said. Her tongue ran across her lips. "Looks like you can do anything you want."

I slid on the bed, watching her wrists in the barbed wire. She looked okay. It was possible that Jett couldn't lean in to it like real rope.

I wrapped my fingers in the elastic band of her gym shorts. Her legs were long, and the shorts were tight against her body, highlighting the inviting contours between her thighs.

I pulled her shorts down, Jett closing her legs and raising her hips, assisting. I registered two surprises at once.

She wasn't wearing underwear.

Her pussy was completely shaved, the typical trimmed auburn hair erased. The soft pink of her inner lips greeted me.

"Surprise," she said.

I looked up at Jett. She had a nervous smile.

I ran my body up along hers, until our lips brushed and my hard cock was rubbing against her pussy.

"I want you," she said again. Her eyes looked down toward my cock. We knew what she meant.

"Not yet," I said.

I slid back down her body, licking and kissing along the way. Collarbone then breast then hard nipple. I kissed along the tattoo that traced her ribs, down the edge to her hips.

I looked up to her. Jett's eyes were closed, experiencing only my lips and tongue on her body. I continued past her hips, shooting to her inner thigh. Dozens of micro-kisses as I approached her shaved pussy.

I ran my tongue across it, not feeling for anything in particular, just exploring the soft flesh of her labia. She smelled faintly of lotion, of aloe vera.

Jett moaned.

I ran my lips back across her pussy, broad tongue lapping until finding a spot of more solid flesh. I rested my face against her, lips perched directly on her clit.

I enjoy going down on Jett. There was a kind of easy confidence knowing that she would cum her brains out. All she needed was time and attention. Oral sex had been on the back burner for weeks, especially with her weird Lisa rivalry bypassing normal foreplay and forcing urgent sex. But now she was mine, tied up in barbed wire, free to torment.

I took my time. Maybe I wasn't a master, but all that was really required was effort and desire. I had plenty of both.

I did my best to drag her clit in to my mouth, sucking and stroking around it with my lips. With the middle of my tongue, I lapped against her. Steady, waiting for her to respond, my chin and cheeks resting against her.

Jett responded immediately, shifting her hips up and toward me, my chin digging in to her flesh, my tongue never stopping. She was beyond ready. Maybe the barbed wire put her over the top, or maybe she just missed me.

I ran my hands up her body, finding her stiff nipples. While I licked, I ran my fingers across and around her nipples, dragging them down to let them pop back up.

She moaned, shifting her hips again, writhing in pleasure. I did my best to follow, never breaking contact with her clit.

"Oh Brett," she said. She seemed distracted, like the words were only stowaways on a ship with a different destination.

I didn't stop. My lips and tongue were a constant, only my hands roamed, kneading her breasts or rolling her nipples. Fingers tracing down bony ribs or grabbing her inner thighs.

"Oh fuck," she said. Her voice was urgent now. I felt her fingers running through my hair. Her breathing grew deeper.

"Right there," she said. "Don't stop."

I didn't. I held her clit in position with the suction from my lips, while I increased the intensity of my tonguing.

It started as a low moan, but built and twisted and escalated until it was a full scream. Her hips bucked, her pussy open and greedy while I kept going.

Then she was coming, a whip of motion in her hips, deep muscles flexing.

"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," she kept going.

Her hips went wild while I followed.

"Oh god stop," she yelled.

I pulled up, her neck was craned back, tendons and arteries bulging, eyes vacant, looking at the ceiling. Her ribs and slender belly rising and falling with each breath, arms still pinned up above her, flattening her breasts, stretching her whole body.

"Oh fuck Brett," she said.

Her eyes found mine. The vacant look was replaced with something else. Something fierce.

"I want you inside me," she said. I saw her jaw clench.

I wanted to grab her and slide her hips down to mine. The bondage added an extra layer of vulnerability, something I didn't know could be so incredibly sexy. Even so, it needed to go. What happened next would need more flexibility.

I pulled my underwear off. All Jett could do was watch, but she did her part, eyes on my hard cock. I crawled up the bed to free her wrists, my cock occasionally sliding against her body. When it did, she would shift her body toward it, just to feel my dick against her.

I was careful when I lifted her wrists off the hook, but not careful enough. I looked through the barbed wire to her wrists.

Blood.

"Oh shit," I said.

There were splotches of blood underneath the tangle of barbed wire. Maybe just scratches, maybe worse. The way her hands were crossed over exposed the underside of her wrists to danger and protected the other side. Stupid. So stupid.

"Don't move," I said. I left her arms pointed above her head. The barbed wire was loose, never really tied down, a prop more than a restraint.

Even so... Fuck.

My hands were shaking as I worked the barbed wire cage around her hands. I felt lips on my cock, her tongue flicking around the edge.

"Jett. Stop," I said.

I lifted the wire free and tossed it to the ground. More blood. Small puncture marks with blots, like the press of a red marker. Other places were long red welts, like claws from a cat.

I watched the blood along the edge of one cut pool up, then run down her arm. It flowed less than an inch, but was enough for Jett to feel it.

She pulled her wrists down and looked at them. Jett looked puzzled, like she was feeling her skin for the first time.

I fought a wave of panic.

Jett looked... satisfied.

I didn't know shit about medicine. Were those cuts superficial, or strategically placed to kill her? I had no idea.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Brett," Jett said.

I whipped my head to the door. I was naked and on my knees, next to Jett. I didn't have a first aid kit. As far as I knew, we didn't even have bandaids. I could call an ambulance. Jett was so, so naked.

Paper towels. Would that work, or make it worse, wicking away and accelerating blood loss?

I felt Jett shift on the bed and sit up. Her fingers grazed my cheek. I looked down.

"It's just a scratch," Jett said. "Scratches. Look."

She held her wrist up and wiped away a line of blood, a red smudge on her pale wrists. New blood welled up to replace it, but it wasn't gushing.

Just scratches, no different than an angry cat.

Thank fucking god.

"I'm so sorry Jett," I said. "I thought I hurt you."

She smiled.

"You did," she said, "and I liked it."

Holy shit. My heart was still racing. I plopped down on the bed next to her, my feet on the ground, but still able to turn and look at her.

Jett inspected her wrists from multiple angles, not scared. Curious. Most of the cuts where horizontal along the insides of her wrists. They were in good locations if she had wanted to end it all.

The cuts were not a suicide attempt, but they evoked that same energy. Anyone who saw her wrists would take a second look.

"They're beautiful," she said.

The blood and fear and knowledge that I had hurt this woman I loved had overwhelmed my lust. I was nauseous. My cock was flaccid.

"I'm going to throw up," was all I managed to say. Jett was fine, but I was living an echo of what might have been.

I felt her shift around the bed more than I saw her. Then she was sitting next to me, her naked leg against mine. I couldn't look at her.

"Brett," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," I said.

She placed her hand on my cheek and turned my face down to hers. Jett kissed me on the lips. Gentle. I felt her breath as much as her lips. Hazel eyes looked up at me.

"I'm okay," she said. "Better than okay."

I sighed. It was true. Scratches. Barbed wire and ecstasy. Stupid combination.

"I'm sure we have bandaids somewhere," I looked down at small welts and drops of blood. "You can say a cat did it."

"No," she said. "If someone asks, I'll tell them my boyfriend bound my wrists with barbed wire and made me come so hard that I never even noticed."

She smiled. It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. Even so, I had nothing. I needed a moment.

I didn't know shit about barbed wire. Was tetanus a thing?

"I'm glad you liked it," I said, no confidence in my voice. "Let me uh... let me find something just in case. Antiseptic."

"Sure," she said. "You know where to find me."

She relaxed back on to the bed and spread her legs, waiting for me.

I did my very best not to ransack the bathroom looking for supplies. I'd never purchased so much as a bandaid, but maybe Lisa had.

Nothing.

I didn't think. I called Lisa.

She didn't pick up the first time. I called again.

"Brett?" she whispered.

"Do we have a first aid kit?" I asked.

"What did you do?" I heard the smile in her voice, even if she didn't laugh.

"Nothing, skinned my knee," I said.

"I'm wracking my brain trying to imagine what the two of you could have done. Gotta be honest--"

"Lisa. I'll tell you the whole story later. Where is it?"

She paused for a moment, as if contemplating my offer.

"Bottom drawer of my nightstand," she said.

"Okay, thanks," I went to hang up.

"Brett?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Just ignore the other stuff in there. Remember who is doing who a favor."

"Fine." I hung up.

I didn't run, but I certainly hurried to Lisa's room. It felt like a violation being in there without her, but I didn't care. The bed was messy and covered in a pile of laundry.

Bottom drawer bedside table. I opened it.

It was her sex drawer. I spotted a wild assortment of objects crammed together in a very small space. Dildo, strap-on harness, butt plug (?), the crop, handcuffs, lube, first aid kit.

The wave of nervous energy finally passed. She kept her first aid kit in her sex drawer. I didn't laugh, but it was funny. Fucking Lisa.

--

I forced Jett to get out of bed and wash her cuts. She acted indignant, questioning why I wasn't just fucking her. Then we put on antiseptic and bandaids. I assured her they were "just for today."

It was still early morning. Not even eight o'clock. I was exhausted, riding an emotional roller coaster of sex then death then recovery, touching up her superficial wounds.

In that moment, I was overwhelmed by how much I missed her, how I needed her to be okay. I just wanted to be close to her.

I sat on the edge of the bed, and she followed, sitting next to me.

"What now?" Jett asked. She never bothered to put clothes on. When I looked in her eyes I only saw concern.

"I miss you," I said. It was corny, and not exactly a call to action.

"Yeah," she said. "Me too."

She slid back on the bed.

"Come here," she said.

She was laying on her side facing me, still naked, still beautiful, but no longer overflowing with furious, animal sexuality. She looked like home. Comfort.

I slid next to her. She grabbed my left hand, the one furthest from her, and rolled over to her other side, so her ass was facing me. She pulled my hand then arm then body with her as she turned, so that I was snuggled right up against her.

We didn't speak. I felt her breathing, every moment reinforcing that she was alive. Not hurt. Perfectly fine. I inhaled in the familiar floral scent of her shampoo.

"So you liked the look?" she asked. She meant her perfectly smooth pussy.

"Yeah," I said. I didn't laugh, but I smiled.

"I would have done it sooner if I knew how you'd react," she said.