Bound and Freed Boxed Set (12 page)

Everything has changed, yet nothing is different,
John thought
. It was all here in front of me all along, I just couldn’t see
it.
He allowed himself an internal snort.
More like I couldn’t feel it.

The evening and early hours of the morning were an
eye-opening shock.

At twenty-six years old John was only just beginning to understand
the pleasure and essential intimacy of the sexual act. For years he had
observed people engaged in every possible form of sex. Logically he was aware
of their primal driving need for intercourse. He had caused others, both male
and female, sexual pleasure and orgasm, and had seen that the act itself caused
intense gratification. But never once had he experienced it himself. It was a
revelation.

I'm like an adolescent having sex for the first time,
he thought with a wry smile.
And I feel like one, too. I don't think I'll
ever get enough.

For years he had pleased others through sex and pain,
forging a connection – the only kind of bond he had been capable of. But now,
with Kelly he understood and had discovered so much more.

Throughout the night, each time he recovered, they had
sex again, and again and again. John took her from behind, bending her over the
bed. And he took her when she lay flat, also from behind, immobilizing her with
his body, nuzzling her neck and back, whispering erotic suggestions in her ear.
He had her face to face with her legs up over his shoulders, and again face to
face against a wall, with her legs wrapped tightly around him, while trapping
her arms above her.

At times John still had a queasy aversion to having her
hands on him, but this trigger was already less powerful than it had been.

John had been rough and edgy from this greedy newly
discovered sexual need. He had taken her like an animal, insatiable, and
savage. André his mentor would have been shocked by his complete lack of
control and finesse, yet he knew André would be happy for him, too.

John loved everything about Kelly's body, especially her
responses to him. He remembered the feel of her swollen, needy clitoris as it
pulsed against his questing fingertips. It had been beating as hard and strong
as the carotid artery of a neck. Her little whimpers, cries and moans that sent
him mad. The smell and taste and feel of every part of her.

Sex with Kelly was wondrous. John had even allowed Kelly
to be on top, telling her to use his body as she wished. That was another real
first. It was so strange, to obtain pleasure from letting Kelly be in control
of an intimate scene. When under tutelage with André, John had hated subbing.
He despised loss of control and found it difficult to trust. Trusting Kelly
came naturally to him. With him deep inside of her, and Kelly's hips undulating
above him, John actually enjoyed her playing Top. Especially as he could so
clearly see how much it amused and pleased her, not to mention watching her
sweet breasts bounce and swing.

Anything that pleased him pleased her and vice versa. At
one point John had gone to the kitchen and brought chocolate and Diet Coke,
building up their strength, eating and sitting companionably with each other.
Kelly chatted then, enthusiastically talking about nothing in particular.

John loved that about her, her ability to talk. It wasn't
that John preferred silence. It was more that unless he was dominating a scene,
he simply couldn’t think of what to say. Kelly was like a trusted friend,
playmate and lover all rolled into one vital person and John didn’t want the
night to end.

"…and that is why my mother sometimes drives me
nuts," Kelly said, her pale blue eyes flashing.

John saw Kelly's cute little nose crinkle up in distaste.
Her orange hair was tousled, and the black make-up around her eyes had run from
all her tears, so she looked a bit like a raccoon. She was sitting naked and
cross-legged on his bed, unconscious of her nudity, chattering away, and John
thought she was the most beautiful woman, and most important person to him in
the entire world.

John was sitting with his back against the bed head, his
legs stretched out in front of him, drinking the last of his coffee. Kelly had
finished hers, as well as peanut butter and banana on toast. He put the cup on
the bedside table. My God, it was five in the morning and he had never felt so
invigorated. After being up all night, John didn’t feel like he was even
beginning to flag. Sex felt so incredible, and it made him mellow and glad
inside. Or was it love, this overwhelming euphoric feeling of belonging?

John had been taking a distance education course called,
"The Philosophy of Religion and Ethics." It was something to do, to
fill a gap. André had encouraged him to continue learning. John's lips curved
as he thought of the Bible verse he had discovered,
I once was lost, but now
I'm found.
It clearly applied to him. He must have had an odd expression on
his face because Kelly looked at him then.

"What?" she asked. "What did I say?"

He laughed and the sound was so foreign to his ears, this
extraordinary happiness. John decided that he had laughed more in this one
night with Kelly than he had in his entire lifetime. Kelly was so essential to
him, alive and passionate. An unexpected urge to touch her kindled every nerve
in his body. Instead of subduing all natural impulses as he habitually would,
he succumbed to it.

"Come sit on my lap," he said and she scooted
over and crawled up on him. John curled his arms around her, pressing her head
against his neck, adoring the satiny feel of her soft feminine skin. "I
love listening to you talk, Kelly."

"Really?" she said in an astonished voice.
"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"I was trying not to talk too much, because I didn’t
want to be annoying," Kelly said a little breathlessly. John hid his
desire to smile, because it was obvious that Kelly's tongue was still on
overdrive. "I never would have thought it, John, but I kind of let my
guard completely down with you. I am so comfortable being here with you, and
you are Father John, the guy with the bullwhip. Jesus you scare the crap out of
me, but you're not just that guy are you? You're this guy too, the man who has
created this warm, welcoming room, who is polite and kind, and understanding."
She looked shyly up at him from under her eyelashes then, and added, "And
you're the best lover on planet Earth."

Without conscious thought, John grabbed her arms and
pulled them behind her back, holding her wrists there with one hand and staring
into her hungry eyes – eyes that reflected his own need. His free hand went to
a breast, and Kelly gasped and responsively arched toward him when he pinched
her nipple. John nuzzled into her then, biting her between her shoulder and her
neck, sucking and stroking her with his tongue, crushing her body against his.

Kelly moaned.

"I'm sorry," John said, pulling back from her.
"I'm not looking after you very well, Kelly. You must be so sore. I
wouldn't be surprised to find your poor overworked cunt was bleeding by now.
It's a kind of madness, my need is so great. I simply have to have you
again."

"Jesus John, are you kidding? This is the best sex
I've had in my whole life. You so totally rock. I love it."  Kelly laughed
and the sound of it was light and musical. Carefree. Then her eyes met his.
That connection was there again, and John felt his heart skip a beat. "I love
everything about you John Taylor," she said.

John's laugh was joyous, but it turned into a growl as he
fell on her like an animal once more.

Kelly woke and stretched like a cat.
I'm in John's
Taylor's bed
, she thought happily.
But I sure didn’t get much sleep last
night.
Every single muscle she had hurt, and she was sore in places she had
never been sore in before. Even her scalp was tender from him fisting her hair
when he plied her to his will. John's tireless sexual energy had been
awe-inspiring and untamed, but
yum
it had all been worth it.

Kelly looked down between her legs, seeing where John's
unshaven stubble had chaffed her white thighs and shaved pussy into pale pink,
not to mention her burning, sensitive breasts and nipples. She put a hand to
her cheek, skimming down her neck and throat. It was probably red there, too.
Her jaw was aching from going down on him – but oh my God, she had never
experienced anything like that before. She sighed. John had LOVED it and so did
she.

Kelly stood up on shaky legs, and she knew that only an
axe could kill the grin she was wearing. She was pretty sure she had one or
more hickies somewhere between her neck and shoulder. Putting her hand to her
lips she traced her jack-o-lantern grin and didn't care that she had a big
manly jaw and orange hair. John thought she was beautiful. Kelly giggled. Even
her mouth and lips felt bruised, and her insides certainly had been battered.
Kelly felt well used, replete and never more satisfied in her life.

John was rattling around in the kitchen, and she thought
she could smell French toast. Kelly didn't recall nodding off – but that
couldn’t have been more than an hour ago. The last thing she remembered was
John behind her, cuddled in a spoon position, his inexhaustible ever erect cock
thrusting leisurely between her legs. Leisurely! That had been a change. Man,
the guy was some sort of sex Olympian, or a machine, ceaselessly pounding away
like a pile driver. How did he do it? Was it just his age?

It was nine a.m. and even after little or no sleep, Kelly
felt wide awake and invigorated.

Three paperback books and a Kindle lay on the bedside
table. Kelly picked the books up, one at a time. "
Man's Search for
Meaning
," "
As a Man Thinkith
," and "
Screw the
Roses, Send Me The Thorns
." She giggled over that one, as it was
obviously a manual concerning the use of pain in BDSM play.

A large framed picture was also on the bedside table. It
was of John when he was a child of six of seven years old, with an older woman
– perhaps his mother or his Aunt. The woman was hugging him and he was
laughing. He looked so cute.

She stood up and took a peek outside. Overcast, but the
rain had stopped. The call of nature had her moving to his bathroom, another
room she had approved of. John had renovated this too, and it was now a
luxurious and sensible place to attend to one's business. She freaked out when
she saw her eyes.
OMG! My mascara has run! How embarrassing.

Kelly washed her face and brushed and her teeth. The bath
looked inviting, the idea of soaking the poor sore muscles of her body sounded
just about perfect. She considered starting to run the tub – but decided to
wait to see if John wanted to have a bath or shower, because whatever they did,
she knew they would do it together.

Kelly found a thin, dark blue cotton bathrobe behind the
door and put it on. When she stepped out John still wasn't back, so she decided
to join him in the kitchen. While passing a desk, she saw her name, and came to
an immediate stop.

Her hand trembled when she reached out for the file.
KELLY FLYNN it stated in big letters. A typed summary was inside, and pictures
and other details further in. Kelly felt her entire body heat, and a strange
roaring sound was in her ears. Feeling faint and weak at the knees, she sat down
and began to read.

"Information as requested concerning Kelly
Flynn." The date was a month ago, about the time when she started going to
The Basement – about the time John had first seen her. What had he said?
You've been watching me, Kelly. Well, I've been watching you, too.

Holy shit! The information he had gathered was certainly
comprehensive. What schools she had attended, information on her HIV status and
blood results, her parents, her siblings, even cut out articles of her when she
played Little Orphan Annie when she was twelve years old.

Kelly abruptly remembered John's comment in his car after
they left the Basement. When she had said they should go to his house, he had
replied, "Good. I live closer." At the time she had thought it an odd
thing to say, but hadn't questioned it. Because of course he couldn't know
where she lived. But now she understood.

Kelly's hand went to her heart, and her throat tightened
with unshed tears. John had known her address. He knew everything about her -
while she, in fact, knew
nothing
about him. Instantly she felt stripped
of all the pleasure she had experienced in the last twelve hours with John. It
had all been a trick, a lie. But why? Why would he do something like this?

Kelly couldn’t take any more - an urgent need to escape
boiled through her veins and she put the file down. Logically she realized that
this spike of panic was simply caused by adrenaline, making her want to run.
Kelly worked to remain calm. Still, her mind immediately flew to worst case
scenarios. Was Father John a complete nut job? Would he chain her up and keep
her in some underground bunker? Or even kill her?

Quickly she got dressed.
Jesus, I have to get out of
here,
she thought.
I have to get away.

John came in, just as she was about to leave the bedroom.
His eyebrows rose just slightly with surprise when he saw that she was dressed.
As she tried to brush by him, he caught her, with his hands on her shoulders.
"Kelly, what is it?" he asked.

When she didn't reply he pushed her against a wall, and
held her there, studying her face with his intent, unfathomable eyes.
"Tell me, Kelly," he said. "What's happened?"

Kelly just stared up at him, utterly motionless and still
quite shocked. Dark
eyes, s
trong
jaw, thick dark hair and implacable expression. He was so beautiful. But it was
all a mask, hiding the monster underneath.

John Taylor, the guy she had been crushing on every day
and night for the last month, was a fake. Now everything made so much sense. No
wonder John knew everything about her, he hadn’t been in tune with her at all -
he had hired someone to search her background. Who does something like that?
Did he have any idea of how creepy that was? And all that time he had been
pretending to understand his subs and read their minds!

A sudden anger helped her get control of herself.
What
a mind-fuck this guy is,
she thought, despising him.
He's a cunning, manipulative
sadist and a calculating sociopath. And he made me love him.
There was no
telling what John was capable of. As far as she knew, he could have even
"arranged" to have the elevator break, to trap them both inside
together.

She recalled what she had been thinking earlier in the
evening when she had imagined that John's
praise and appreciation would crack even the most stubborn heart.
And her instinctive self-protective reflection,
Yes but how many woman has
he told these things to? Be careful. This is how he gets people to love him.

Well, she sure had fallen for it.

And her friend Rosslyn's comments: "Father John just
oozes the Triple 'F' factor, crushing and breaking the heart of every woman who
comes near him. The man is beyond reach but utterly captivating. You know, the
"Fatal Female Flaw" when ordinarily sensible women fall madly in love
with an unattainable man who can't, or won't love them back?"

My God
, she thought,
I've been so
stupid! Such a trusting innocent.

"Kelly, you will tell me
right now
,"
John said in his deceptively mild Dom voice.

Kelly was pinned against the wall, held by John's
overwhelming strength and will. His eyes held a challenge, the opportunity for
her to say no to him, or to fight back. Steps which they equally knew her
submissive nature would find difficult to take. Either way, they both
understood who would win. John's strong authoritative tone had her
unconsciously opening her mouth - he almost had her talking.

No,
she thought.
He is so
clever, and I'm so gullible. He'll explain everything away and I'm so stupid
I'll believe it, because I want to believe it. God I'm an idiot. I have to get
out of here. But how can I escape?
But then she remembered. She still had a
safe word.

"Daisies," Kelly said.

John Taylor stepped back and away from her in one quick
stride, as if he had unwarily grasped a nettle, or a rattlesnake. His lips
firmed and his face became even darker and more unreadable.

"I'm going home," she said.

John looked around his bedroom, and suddenly he seemed to
comprehend. His cool gaze met hers, but his expression was empty. The
connection they had created together had disappeared completely - just like
that. Now when Kelly looked at him there was an insurmountable distance between
them.

"Will I call you a taxi or drive you to your
car?" he asked in a soft, even voice.

"I'll get a cab."

John left her, striding back into the kitchen. Kelly only
then realized that he was naked - she had been so shocked by seeing KELLY FLYNN
on a file on his desk that she hadn't even noticed. As he walked away from her
she stared at him. Even from behind he took her breath away, his sleek muscular
back, narrow hips and tight ass.  Just looking at him was mesmerizing.

Shit,
she thought.
He is soooo
bad for me.
Dressed and ready to go, Kelly followed after him into the
kitchen.

John had his phone to his ear and was already calling,
ordering the cab. "Yes. From Aloha to
Hillsboro
. Ten minutes? Thank
you," he said and put his cell on the orange countertop.

John sat down at the small kitchen table and silently
searched her face.

"I'll wait outside," Kelly said, feeling
uncomfortable.

"You must do as you think best, Kelly," he said
with an utterly impassive expression on his handsome, once well loved
countenance. "You have found that file and drawn conclusions, without
enough information to do so."

"What am I supposed to think?" she snapped
back, feeling righteously angry, betrayed, hurt and insulted. John had tricked
her. And he had made her fall in love with him too.
Bastard!
All men
are bastards,
she thought.
I am soooo going to be a lesbian. At least
with a woman I'll know where I stand.

"I am suggesting," John said mildly, "that
there may be another reason that I would have such a file. A logical
explanation."

Kelly shook her head. "Reeally? She said drawing the
word out. The sarcasm in her voice was laid on thick as cloud cover on the
Portland International Airport after all flights had been cancelled and the
airport closed. She was so angry at him she felt like she could spit, or claw
his eyes out.

Kelly's pink and while daisies sat up in their vase,
bright and cheerful, mocking her. Their colors clashed obscenely with John's
ugly orange counter-top.

Kelly never wanted to see another daisy again.

A horn honked outside. The cab was here.

John made no move toward her, not to stop her, not even
to open the door for her. As Kelly walked out onto the porch, John opened his
mouth, and appeared as if he was going to say something. She held up her hand
to stop him.

"No," Kelly said. "Don't even try to
explain. You don't say much John, but what you do say is always pretty smooth.
I don't think there
is
an explanation except for an iniquitous
one."

John still hadn't moved - he was a cold rigid statue of
heartless stone in his chair. The last she saw of him was the totally distant
and unemotional look on his face.

Unfeeling bastard!
Kelly thought as she got into the cab and it drove off.

And then she began to cry.

END OF STRIPPED