For My Master (3 page)

To her shame, she was turned on by the sensuality of the
experience—the scents that the tattoo artists wore, of exotic blossoms, leather
and patchouli, the stroke of their hair on Kathie’s flesh, the tiny, warm puffs
of their combined breaths on Kathie’s exposed clit. Both were attractive people
and, despite her burgeoning feelings for Ross, she found herself turned on by
their very closeness.

All the while Ross watched.

Despite the sex with Ross, desire pooled deep in her cunt.
She began to shake and her pussy tightened. The needle’s prick swelled her most
sensitive parts and with the swelling came want. Want quickly blossomed into
need and Kathie struggled to repress her passionate sighs.

Darla noticed. So did Toby. How could they not? Kathie
herself could smell Ross’ come and her cream oozing from her pussy. Even so,
Darla’s hands were unwavering as she worked. But Toby’s fingers, as they moved
this way and that while helping Darla, had developed an unmistakable quiver,
and his cheeks had pinkened.

“All done.” Darla switched off the needle, put away her
equipment and stripped off her gloves. She cupped Kathie’s breast and smiled at
Ross. “Your lady wants to play, and I’d be happy to oblige.”

Her casual tone was undercut by the flush in her cheeks.
Darla was aroused. Ross came closer and when Kathie turned her head she noticed
an admirable tent in his shorts. Same with Toby.

Everyone in the room was turned on.

“She looks pretty sore.” Ross peered down at Kathie’s mound.

“Yes, you have to be careful.” Darla dipped her finger into
the jar of petroleum jelly and tenderly spread a thin film over the fresh
tattoo, then stroked Kathie’s clitoris.

Toby pulled her thighs apart. Her hips jerked involuntarily
and she moaned. Darla chuckled and tugged on the nubbin of proud flesh before
plunging one long, red-tipped finger into Kathie’s slit.

Excitement shot through her. She cried out, startled by the
invasion, more shocked by her response to a woman.

Ross leaned over and thrust his tongue into her open mouth
as she came, his hands on her breasts. Darla withdrew and massaged Kathie’s
clit.

Writhing within her bonds, Kathie opened her eyes to look
deep into Ross’ brown gaze. Beyond him, she could see Darla kissing Toby while
continuing to play with Kathie’s cunt.

Another hand touched her—a man’s hand, she thought. But the
hand couldn’t belong to Ross—he was cupping her breasts and pinching her
nipples, which was unbelievably arousing, combined as it was with Darla’s fingers
in Kathie’s pussy. Toby was stroking Kathie’s inner thighs up and down with
gentle fingertips. The lazy caress kept her pulsing.

She didn’t stop coming until Darla stopped. Ross
straightened to unzip his shorts while Toby urged Darla to bend over the table
between Kathie’s spread legs. Darla kissed Kathie’s naked cunt while presenting
her raised ass to her partner, who lifted her skirt and opened his pants. He
had a long cock—not as thick as Ross’ or as dark, but quite a tool
nevertheless. Kathie’s pulse quickened as she watched, watched and anticipated
with a rush of honey moistening her pussy. She pushed her cunt harder against
Darla’s lips.

Toby fondled himself for a moment then aimed his rod to
enter Darla from behind with a long, slow surge. Darla’s gasp sent warm breath
floating over Kathie’s clit while she watched Toby grip Darla’s round hips as
he took her.

She’d never thought she’d take part in such a dirty, sexy
scene and didn’t know how she felt about it. The she remembered what Ross had
said.
Just let go…

So she did. She let go of her judgments and her fear to
watch Toby fuck Darla, allowed herself to enjoy the quick flicks of Darla’s
tongue over her clit, flicks that landed in time with Toby’s powerful thrusts.

Kathie writhed and moaned. Ross climbed up onto the table
and centered himself atop her, his knees spread. He lifted her head and shoved
his cock into her mouth, taking advantage of her open lips, her gasps and pants
as Darla ate her out, her tongue stabbing rhythmically, her long nails digging
into Kathie’s thighs while holding them apart.

Those tiny stabs, along with the hard push of Ross’ cock in
her mouth, sent Kathie over the edge once more.

As she panted for breath, enjoying the afterglow and sucking
Ross anew, he moaned, “Belle, Belle…”

For a startled moment she forgot who he meant. Then she
remembered and was both complimented and dumbfounded. Complimented, for
evidently she was blowing him the way he liked. And dumbfounded. In the midst
of his passion, he had used her code name.

That was more single-minded than she ever wanted to become.
What did that portend for their relationship? Would it always be overshadowed
by their work?

Ross led her down a hall, with Kathie’s feet silent on
thick, gray carpets. She caught glimpses of rooms, one evidently an office,
with a desk strewn with paperwork. Another was a guest bedroom, she supposed,
for it was nicely furnished but had a lonely air, as though it wasn’t often
used. Potted plants were everywhere. He’d even managed to persuade gardenias to
bloom indoors. Their heady scent filled her nostrils.

They turned into a large, opulently furnished master suite.
Its sitting room featured comfortable chairs, good lighting and another table
fountain. This was apparently where Ross hung out and read. She didn’t really
have time to snoop around because he led her through the room and into another.

His bedroom. Dominated by a four-poster, king-sized bed in
dark wood, it was masculine without being ponderous or stupidly macho. No whips
or chains, not even satin sheets. Just a big bed that reminded her irresistibly
of hot sex on cool white linens.

His bathroom was huge, the size of her apartment’s living
room, and was trimmed with slate and lined with mirrors that reflected her
image at least twelve times. A window was open, admitting a soft sea breeze.
More potted plants also lent their fragrances.

Darla had been right. Kathie
was
sore, a fact she
discovered when she showered. Her mound, with the initials Z.G. done
elaborately in black, was dotted with bloody pinpricks that she guessed
wouldn’t completely heal for a couple of days. Her thighs exhibited tiny red
crescents. From Darla’s nails, Kathie guessed.

After drying off, she borrowed a silk robe hanging on the
door. The green paisley was far too big for her—Ross’, no doubt—but it would
have to do. Following his orders, she hadn’t brought other clothes.

She found him in the sitting room. A diagram was rolled out
on a table, weighted with an assortment of odd items—a fossilized nautilus shell,
a polished granite cube, his cell phone and a book, Wilder’s
Our Town.

“This is the blueprint of the house we’re going into,” he
told her.

“How did we get it?”

“We found the architect hiding out in Omaha. He wasn’t very
pleased to see us and we persuaded him to give us these plans in exchange for
our silence.”

“It’s a square. That’s odd. Most people prefer houses to be
more unique and individualized.”

“It’s really a concrete fortress.” He eyed her. “It’s the
headquarters of
El Silencio
.”

Her belly twisted.
El Silencio
, The Silent One, was
reputed to speak only when ordering a deal…or a death.

“Here are some photos.” He handed her a sheaf of perhaps
five pictures.

She flipped through them. “The grounds are walled and
gated.”

“Yes, there’s only one way in and out. We’re expected, so
getting in won’t be a problem. It’s getting out that could pose issues.”

“How high are the walls?”

“Twelve feet. Stucco topped with razor wire and broken
glass.”

“Where are the drugs stored?”

“We’re not sure, but we believe in the basement, as it’s
easily defensible.”

She stacked the photographs at one corner of the table. “So
what’s the plan?”

“Go in, set fire to the drugs and get out, preferably
without anyone getting killed.”

She lifted her brows. “No arrests?”

“No, that’s really not worth our time. You know how it is
south of the border these days. The baddies would grease a few palms and be
free before we got back home. All we’re trying to do is destroy the stash,
which is rumored to be considerable.”

She leaned past him to scrutinize the diagram. Though
acutely aware of his nearness, she tried to ignore her tripling heartbeat and
the sex juices gathering in her pussy. “Three stories.”

“Two,” he said. “The ground floor, one upper story, and the
basement, which is the focus of our endeavors. Look at this.”

The diagram of the basement. “It looks like two big rooms.”

“Yeah. Our information is that one room is the storage.”

“Is it fortified?”

“Yes, with extra metal beams and concrete. You could set a
bomb off in there and the neighbors wouldn’t notice.”

“What’s the other room?”

“It’s a dungeon. A sex dungeon.”

“A sex—”

“Yeah.” He turned his head to regard her with serious eyes.
“And we need to get down there as soon as possible.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “That shouldn’t be hard, not
since you have a sex slave in urgent need of training.”

“Speaking of which, come with me.”

She followed him into the bedroom, where he asked, “Belmont,
have you ever had it up the ass?”

Her mouth fell open. She’d already seen that Ross could be
salty, but this deliberate crudeness was unexpected.

He huffed impatiently. “This is no time to get prudish. We
have to leave soon, and if your ass isn’t open they’ll notice as soon as you
bend over. Tell me, have you ever had anal sex?”

“No, but I…” God. How could she tell Ross she used a dildo
on herself? How embarrassing.

“But what?”

“I, er…you shouldn’t have any trouble,” she whispered. Even
without a mirror, she could sense the red staining her cheeks.

“Let’s find out. Take off the robe and bend over.” His tone
was crisp and impersonal. He might have been ordering an espresso at Starbucks.

She bit her lip and obeyed, even though she was angry at his
peremptory manner.
Just get your ass over here and bend over.

Like the day before, he palmed her buttocks and spread her
wide. Like the day before, she found this treatment unutterably sexy.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rich with male appreciation. “I
see what you mean. You’re nice and open, but not loose. You use a dildo, or
your finger?”

“Um-hmm,” she mumbled, her face in the dark blue coverlet.

“What?” He slapped her fast and hard.

The spank reverberated through her, the shock wave shooting
straight to her pussy, which creamed anew. Her knees started to wobble. “Yes,
sir.”

“Belmont, this isn’t a game. You’re gonna have to do better
if you’re gonna fake it as a slave. I’ve been patient, but…” He reached over to
a drawer in a bedside table and took something out.

She turned her head to peek, saw something long and brown,
and her brain shorted out. Surely it couldn’t be…

The flogger swished onto her bare buttocks and she shrieked
from sheer surprise. He leaned a forearm over her shoulders to hold her in
place, then laid four stripes, two for each butt cheek.

They stung like hell. “You bastard!” She twisted out of his
hold, rolling across the bed. He followed her, pinning her down in the middle
of the mattress, facedown, holding her there with his body weight.

Damn him, she couldn’t get away. He had to outweigh her by
at least fifty pounds. Worse, she was getting turned on. Aroused. Aroused by a
whipping, by this big man holding her in place, controlling her every movement.
She liked it.

Her pussy clenched and her mind blanked with shock. She
couldn’t have enjoyed that. Could she? “That wasn’t necessary!”

“Oh, it was. The marks will show you’re truly a slave.
Besides, you needed the punishment. Don’t fool with me, Belmont. I can tell a
true submissive from fifty paces. You’re turned on.”

She turned her face away. “That’s not the point,” she said,
sulky.

Standing, he laughed. “That’s exactly the point.”

* * * * *

Two hours later, they hit the road. In keeping with his
cover as a wealthy drug dealer looking for another supplier, Ross wore a navy
Canali suit. He’d dressed Kathie in a rose-pink, wrap-style dress over outrageous
black lace lingerie. Her demi-bra held her up but didn’t cover her nipples,
which jabbed the dress’s thin fabric. No panties on her freshly shaved,
tattooed pussy, but a garter belt supported sheer stockings. Lethally sharp
fuck-me heels with pointed toes, useful as weapons. Chain bracelets on both
wrists and one ankle. “It’s like a code,” Ross explained. “The chains represent
your enslavement. In fact, they’re titanium, strong enough to bind you if
necessary.”

“As long as you’re the one doing the binding,” Kathie said.
“I won’t be able to help much if I’m tied up.”

“There’s a lever and spring hidden in each chain that
releases it. Can you find them?”

She fiddled with the bracelets until she could open them
with ease.

“Learn how to release them with one hand.” Ross’ eyes were
somber as he stared at the road, his big hands steady on the steering wheel of
the black Mercedes. “It could save both our lives. I want to get you into that
dungeon as soon as possible.”

“That should be easy enough. All I have to do is mouth off
or forget to call you master.”

“Yes, and as soon as you’re naked they’ll see you’re a true
slave.”

Kathie shifted, careful to keep her knees apart. The healing
tattoo still stung, and the car’s air conditioning soothed the sore flesh.
“Yes, sir.” She leaned forward in her seat belt. She’d already discovered that
if she put her weight on her thighs, the stripes on her ass didn’t ache.

Though they’d caused her pain, it hadn’t been bad. If
pressed, she’d have to admit she’d liked everything that had happened. The
foursome had been hot. Watching Darla get thoroughly fucked while eating Kathie
out had been a major turn-on, even though sex with another woman had never been
one of her fantasies. Darla clearly knew her way around another woman’s body. And,
while Toby hadn’t had her, watching him buck in and out of Darla had been very
sexy.

Come to think of it, neither man had fucked or sucked the
woman who wasn’t his. Must be some sort of convention in the alternate-sex
community, Kathie mused. No nookie unless invited.

And she’d invited Ross to do whatever he wanted with and to
her, an invitation he’d accepted with competence and eagerness. The flogging
had hurt, but he’d been right. She’d been turned on by the whipping, his
dominance, his mastery. Even now she squirmed on the upholstery, brimful of
unfulfilled cravings. He hadn’t fucked her after the whipping and hadn’t
allowed her to touch herself to relieve her tension. Her nerves were drawn as
tight as the bridge cables over the Tijuana River.

She was anxious about everything—the mission and their odd
new relationship at the top of the list. If it was a real relationship.

She believed he’d keep his commitment to her, that he’d give
her everything she needed. But he would also take everything he wanted… What
would he choose? How would she feel? How would becoming Ross’ submissive change
her? Would she still be an effective agent?

As they drove to their meeting with
El Silencio
, she
prayed that they’d both complete the mission safely to find out if there could
be anything real between them.

Their government clearances eased their way into Mexico, but
night was falling when Ross turned onto a broad
avenida
in Zona Rio. At
the end of the street, Kathie saw the fortress from the photos. Lit by orangey
floodlights playing over high, desert-colored stucco walls, it was big, more
imposing than in the pictures. For the first time fear clutched her heart. This
was the most dangerous mission she’d been assigned. She and Ross could easily
be killed.

Her armpits dampened. She crossed and recrossed her ankles.

He squeezed her knee. “You wouldn’t be here, Belmont, if you
weren’t ready for this job.”

She breathed in and out, slowing her heartbeat, controlling
her fluttering pulse.

Ross stopped the Mercedes at the entrance, a tall,
iron-spiked gate. One of the two black-clad guards flanking it stepped forward
to tap on Ross’ window with the butt of a semi-automatic.

Ross depressed a button, rolling down the window. “
Buenas
noches.
Zack Guerrero to see
El Silencio,
” he continued in Spanish.

“You’re expected,
Señor
Guerrero, and your woman as
well.” The guard leaned over to eye Kathie. His tongue lapped his lower lip.
“She is your hole?”

“Yes,” Ross said, his voice cold. “
All
mine.”

The guard jerked back. “
Lo siento
. I did not mean to
offend.”

“No offense taken. Shall we…?”

“
Sí, sí
,of course.” The guard waved at an
unseen gatekeeper. The gate opened, letting them into The Silent One’s
fortress.