Kaylee's Keeper (27 page)

She looked at the wand in his hand, humming its terrible song, its electric barbs hidden within the glass orb because no one was close enough right now for it to bite.

“If you say your safeword, I’ll understand,” he told her. “I will. But I would prefer that you didn’t say it. I would prefer that you trust me instead. Can you do that, pet? Can you trust that I won’t take this farther than you can go?”

Trembling, Kaylee clutched her hands tight in her lap. She looked from him to the orb, watched as his fingers lazily circled it one more time, bringing forth those snapping blue lines, and tried very hard to gather her shreds of courage. The wand sounded awful, but it didn’t seem to hurt him. Not even just a little.

Kaylee shuddered, but she also stretched out her hand. Her fingers hovered over his for a long time, shaking, uncertain. He could have ended it all right there by simply tapping her nearest appendage—her thumb—with the head of the wand, but he didn’t. He held still and didn’t push, simply waited until she—as quick as she could—touched it on her own.

She never quite made contact with the glass; she only got close to it. Then she heard the snap, felt the jolt, and yanked her tingling hand back to cradle it protectively to her chest. She jumped up, needing to get away from it—nervousness, reluctance and relief all crashing together inside her. It turned her squeamish scream into a shaky laugh as she tried to flick the resulting buzzing sensation out of her fingers.

Master Marshall watched her pace. A font of infinite patience, his fingertips played over the orb as he waited for her to calm back down. “Was it terrible?” he asked, and Kaylee shook her head. “Do you want to touch it again?”

Kaylee instantly shook her head again, but when he just sat there, watching and waiting, she crept back over to sit down next to him on the coffee table. She looked at the orb, studied how he caressed it. Eventually, she even reached for it a second time.

“Good girl,” he soothed and she laughed that high-pitched, strangling laugh again, but that was before the humming wand bit her fingers.

At the first snap and subsequent buzz, she jerked back, but almost immediately reached again. Tap, flinch. Tap-tap, flinch. She spread her wildly buzzing fingers out and finally just let it chew its blue lines all over her shaking palm.

“There you go,” he praised her, and Kaylee half-laughed and half-cried, still so nervous, still skirting the edge of panic, but also now keeping her hand near the crackling orb, enduring its angry bite until the tingling buzz had crawled partway up her arm.

“It—” She had to work not to pull her hand away. “—it doesn’t hurt very much at all. More, it just feels really weird.”

“This is the lowest setting. Higher ones do hurt, but we won’t be exploring those today. How do you feel?”

“I’m okay,” she breathed.

“Are you ready to trust me?”

Trembling, she nodded.

He smiled again, and oh, how that look made her feel. Like his praise, his softly uttered ‘good girls’ bolstered her and helped to keep her fear in check while he lay her back on the coffee table and began to strap her down.

“I’m not going to adjust the setting. It will never be higher than what you just felt,” he promised and she nodded, shivering, beginning to sweat, scared. He caressed his hand down the length of her, soothing with his touch. “I like that you are willing to try new things with me. Remember this is not a punishment, and I have no intention of taking it that way. This is simply you and me, putting an irrational fear to rest in a way that I am going to enjoy making you enjoy. Give me your hands, pet.

He bound her wrists together, and the comfort and security of that confinement felt more like a hug than it did restriction. She actually relaxed a little, letting him stretch her arms up over her head and tie her to rings in the wooden legs. The coffee table wasn’t long enough for her lie fully upon it, but Master Marshall didn’t seem to want that anyway. He bent to press a kiss upon her soft stomach and then pulled her hips down to hang partially over the bottom edge while he bound each of her ankles and affixed a long spreader bar between them. It wasn’t until he pulled out the stepladder that she noticed the eyebolt in the ceiling. He clipped a length of chain to it, then hooked into the spreader bar and hoisted her up by her feet until her ass came an inch or so up off the table.

He walked around her, trailing an appraising hand up her thighs to her knees and down the backs of her legs. He spanked once, just hard enough to make her bottom jiggle and sway. “Beautiful. Struggle for me.”

She managed an experimental wiggle but barely made the chains clink.

“The bus won’t be here for several hours yet.” He patted her bottom again. “That’s plenty of time for us to make your last day something to remember.”

He left her then, but went only as far as the kitchen threshold. “You’ve dawdled long enough,” he told Molly. “Leave us.”

He did not walk her to the door, but returned to Kaylee instead. And as soon as the front door closed behind the sullen Little Maid, he picked up the wand. “Let’s begin.”

Kaylee couldn’t help the full body shiver that ravaged her when she heard that first click and hum. This wouldn’t be any worse than what she’d already felt, she told herself. He’d promised that, she believed him, and what she’d already felt hadn’t hurt. Not really. Not where it counted, but she cringed anyway and shut her eyes when he reached for her. She mewed, but his first touch was only with his hand. He laid it flat on her chest.

“Breathe.” He coaxed her eyes open as he caressed down between her breasts, over her navel to her pubis and then back again. It was the richest kind of intimacy, the way his fingers traced along the tender underside of each breast, cupping the fleshy globe, squeezing gently. The rasp of his thumb across her nipple raised it into a taut peak, and awakened the first lick of reluctant arousal. She moaned, and a fizzing sensation zapped her other nipple.

Her whole body jumped and her yelp became a full-throated moan when he bent and took the buzzing tip into his hot mouth. His tongue did not assuage the sensation; it amplified it, and soon she was arching, her legs heaving her up off the table as if she were trying to climb the chain feet first. She wasn’t strong enough to keep that up for long and eventually she fell back down, squirming into each suckling pull of his mouth until it abandoned her.

“W-wait,” she panted as he brought the wand back into her sight. Her legs spasmed, struggling to pull her up that chain all over again, but he zapped her nipple again anyway. Wet from his saliva, the buzzing tingle was even stronger and every muscle in her body surged under the bite of the blue lines. She gasped and writhed, and yet when he reached down to cup between her legs, she felt that familiar molten heat blossom in the palm of his hand. He held her, rubbed her, brought welling drops of moisture beading into existence under circumstances she never imagined possible.

“Oh my God,
ohmygod
!” She cringed, but he tapped her nipple again, tapped and held this time, rolling it around and around her breast to bring her screeching up off the table as high as her legs could pull her even though the hurt…wasn’t.

It didn’t hurt. At all. It buzzed. It tingled. It felt like soda pop bubbling up under her skin everywhere her skin was dry and where it was wet, it stung like the snap of a rubber band. But it didn’t hurt, not the way her mind kept trying to tell her it was. But even knowing this, when he lowered the wand to bite and snap at her other breast, she threw herself against her bonds in a mad fight for escape.

She made the coffee table creak, the chains rattle, and the ropes groan and groan and
groan
, and she groaned along with them because, no longer content to torment just her breasts, now the wand was wandering all the rest of her. It traced her curves and contours, moving as Master Marshall moved, travelling an unhurried path down her ribs to her side, over her flinching navel and around her squirming hips. It circled her buttocks, travelled up the backs of each tensing leg, and licked its buzzing kiss across the soles of both her feet before wandering back down again.

“Oh my God!” she moaned, cringing as it descended down into the tender ‘v’ of her thighs, winning a truly evil smile from Master Marshall the closer he came to the glistening folds of her sex. That first sizzling shock brought her hips lurching up off the table, wrenching and twisting like a hooked trout. But no matter how she moved, the wand never broke contact. He waved it over and around her clit until the snap became sting and she became breathless.

Parting the flush outer lips of her sex, he let the wand crackle and bite the slick inner folds. At her anus, he paused to pass the electrode back and forth across the puckered rim until she was shrieking. “Oh my God!”

The ceiling absorbed her cries; Master Marshall showed no mercy. He simply bent and, while she begged and howled, he opened his mouth and captured her throbbing clit between his burning lips. Kaylee came, without warning or hesitancy. At his first suckling pull, the pleasure erupted from her flesh as if he were ripping it out on strings. Her whole body sang, humming and buzzing, not just where the wand had touched her but everywhere, in every inch of her flesh, and there was nothing she could do but lie in her bonds, cuffs and chains, and take it. Her muscles gave out before the orgasm did. She fell limp across the table, vibrating even after he raised his mouth from between her splayed legs and took away the wand.

“Please!” she gasped, whimpering and panting, trapped in the flesh of a stranger who couldn’t seem to get enough. “Please…”

She wanted to say
no more
but the words would not come out.

Master Marshall looked down on her as if he were a god, admiring his most favored creation. The more she pleaded, the more he smiled. “No,” he said, and then he began again. He took her to a place of such darkness and light, of pleasure richly intermingled with the softest zaps of pain. He tormented her, driving her body to flinch from his touch and yet she could not have craved anything more.

Every pass of that traveling wand made her thighs glisten more. She could feel it, the silken oils of her own body spilling down between her buttocks, dripping and pooling upon the table beneath her. He tortured one nipple while suckling the other. He ground the orb upon her clitoris until every muscle in her belly and thighs was shaking like a leaf in the gale. Every drop of moisture, every bead of sweat made the crackling snaps sting that much sharper, and still she came, bucking and writhing and grinding mindlessly to find the wand again each time he took it away. She screamed and begged and wailed until at one point Security stationed an observer inside his apartment—just in case—and her voice gave out, becoming little more than a rasp of sound. She wanted it to stop; she’d die if it did.

And when finally all she could do was lie bonelessly in puddles of her own arousal and sweat, all the Master of the Castle did was change the head on the wand, removing the orb and replacing it with a phallic-shaped electrode, complete with a thick mushroom-shaped tip.He laid his hand on her quivering abdomen, slick with sweat, flinching from his touch. He felt the involuntary kick of her flesh when he stroked the wand up and down the inside of each thigh, back and forth, the mushroom tip crackling each time it skimmed her sex.

“Please,” she mouthed, her hips trying desperately to follow the wand.

He smiled. “I’m going to make you cum so hard, it’s going to hurt. Breathe for me, Kaylee. Just breathe.”

Every inch of her came sparking back to life when he slid the phallic end of the wand inside her. He took her beyond screams, beyond rasps, beyond all ability to think. He took her beyond sight and sound. All she could hear was the crackling hum of the wand. All she could feel was the electrical charge singing through her sex, branching out into all parts of her, piercing her all the way to her bones.

Kaylee had thought crying during orgasm was something that only happened in sappy romance novels, but she cried for Master Marshall. She cried long after he turned off the wand and untied each of her bonds. He gathered her tenderly into his arms, pulling her to him. With her head pillowed against his chest, he held her while she wept until there wasn’t a drop of moisture left anywhere inside her, and she had no idea of really even why. Sad was not what she was feeling, although she did feel loss. Today was her last day. Today, she had to go home.

She sat in his arms for a very long time, limp in flesh and spirit—her body humming, singing, aching, alive—while he held her, and the bus for home rolled slowly up the gravel drive, and the clock all too soon ran out of time.

* * * * *

Kaylee sat on the foot of the bed in the castle-themed bedroom that, up until twenty minutes ago, she hadn’t known she’d had. It was a very nice room, spacious enough for two, nowhere near as large as Master Marshall’s had been, but what good was being the Master of the Castle if you didn’t have at least one really good perk?

It was almost time to go. Master Marshall had walked her here so she could gather her things. Because she’d never technically unpacked, her bag was sitting inside the door, exactly where it had been left by whoever’s job it was to drag the luggage in from the busses. Hands on her knees, she looked around one last time, noting the restraint rings in the bed posts, seeing little things that reminded her of Master Marshall just about everywhere she looked.

She missed him already.

She missed him in a way that felt as if she had a hole inside her chest.

She might not ever see the man again. He was probably already back at work by now, having already said goodbye to her at the door. Just like the strangers that, in all actuality, they really were.

“I had a really good time,” she’d said, the most inane statement to ever come popping out of her mouth.

Master Marshall had, true to form, been much more eloquent. Catching her chin lightly between his fingers, he’d kissed her. His warm lips grazed hers so lightly, the way sweet goodbye kisses should be. But, like the flipping of some internal switch, that kiss had abruptly deepened, intensified. He became consuming, falling with her against the door, no longer content just to hold her chin, but grabbing her ass in both hands and roughly jerking her hips up to his. Her hands caught his shoulders, clinging to him while her scrambling toes barely kept contact with the floor. And when at last his mouth tore from hers, her heart was beating so erratically fast, they were both panting, and in those angel-blue eyes, all she could see was a storm of fierce and unspoken desire. He’d opened his mouth. He’d closed it again. The storm remained unsaid.