Knotted Pleasure (15 page)

"Thank you," feeling some relief. She heard too much about prisons in foreign countries.

"You may call me Captain Miguel."

"Yes, Captain Miguel." He was almost like her savior. He was going to save her from a hideous fate. He had to be in his forties, a bit younger than her father. He would take care of her like her father always did. She had no choice but to put her fate into his hands, no one else knew where she was.

"I have to see the judges to plead your case, so I am going to have to secure you. You don't want me to get into trouble if something should happen to you, do you?" He got up from the chair and walked over toward her. He saw the way she was looking at him, sizing him up, seeing if she could trust him or should fear him.

He was bigger than she expected, standing over six feet tall. He could easily overpower her. She had come down the hallway, deserted, two floors down from an empty terminal. She was trapped, she had no choice. He walked up next to her. He looked down at her, 89

he put his hand on her face and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes so gently, not what she expected. "No, Sir." His hand went down her neck, sending goose bumps on her skin. She didn't understand the feelings that were racing through her body.

"I will use smooth, slick leather straps to restrain you. They won't cut into your skin like handcuffs or chains. Step over here," he nudged her along, but his hand went around her waist as if it were the most natural thing to do. He expected her to recoil from his touch, but she barely acknowledged it.

She was going to be restrained, the thought terrified her, but at the same time she felt something that she couldn't explain. It was the same feeling she had when she was handcuffed to the bench outside.

She was defenseless and vulnerable. Maybe that is why she was so trusting of Captain Miguel. It was her only choice in this foreign land. She stood in the center of the room, looking around, finally able to concentrate on something other than her problem. It was a single room, with what looked like a bathroom on the far side; the other door was the one she came through. Captain Miguel had his desk and same cabinets behind it. On one side of the room was a shower, outside the bathroom, a single shower in a tile pan, but there was nothing around it, open for all to see. She only hoped that she would get out of here before she would have to use it. She would rather stink than strip naked and take a shower in plain sight.

On the other side of the room, a thick pole ran from the ceiling to the floor, steel bolts securing it at both ends as if it needed great strength. She saw a bed next to it, a double bed that was hastily made or wasn't used in a long time. There was a tan, metal, double-door cabinet, but it was closed.

He pushed a button on the remote control until the leather straps came down silently from the pulley in the ceiling. She jumped when they suddenly popped in front of her face; he was sure that it was not what she was expecting. "It's okay," he stroked her shoulder, "I won't hurt you." He wanted her to get used to his hands touching her body and face. "See," showing her the straps. "They slip around your wrists and when the slack is taken up they will tighten up. They won't 90

leave more than a little indent in your skin that will go away in a few minutes." He rubbed the smooth straps along her arms until he saw goose bumps appear, but he could make out the beginning of hard nipples poking out of her bra.

The leather was soft and supple, not what she expected. It almost felt good when he rubbed her arms with it. She put her hands out for him, feeling his large hand encircle one of them and then he gently put the strap around it. He did the same with her other wrist, lightly touching her arm and hands as he did so, as though he was caressing her. She shivered. "That's not tight," she said, surprised at how loose they were.

"I'm going to pull the straps up now, Sandra. Relax and let your arms rise, don't fight it, the pulley is too powerful for you to resist."

He saw her look at him with large, frightened eyes, but the pulley was already pulling the slack out of the straps and her hands began to tug upward.

She struggled for a moment when the leather tightened on her wrists until they were snug. It was as he said, they didn't dig into her flesh, but she knew she was secured. It was natural to fight the machine that drew her wrists up, to panic, but Captain Miguel smiled at her as if to soothe her anxiety. He touched her wrists when she fought it, Sandra feeling a comfort in it as though he was helping her through it. She let her arms go limp as they slowly rose up to her head, but they didn't stop, the unseen machine pulling them up higher, slowly but unyielding. "How high?" Her voice stammered.

"To make sure you don't hurt yourself, I will draw your body taut. I don't want the straps to be too loose and accidently get wrapped around your neck when I am not here. You will get used to it. You will be bound this way often while you are here." He rubbed her face again, gently from her cheek all the way across her trembling lips.

She didn't recoil. "I'll take good care of you, Sandra. Just do what I say and everything will be okay."

Her arms were high up; over her head, and they were still rising.

They began to straighten out, feeling pressure on her joints as the muscles began to grow taut. She could feel her stomach muscles 91

tighten, looking down to see her breasts pushed out in front of her as if she were teasing Captain Miguel with them. She didn't say anything, trusting him that he would stop when it was right. She felt relief when it did, yet all she could think about was the word he used.

Bound.

"I'm going to take off your shoes. You will be more comfortable without them when I pose you." He kneeled down, his hand running down her inside calve lightly until he got to her shoes. He slipped one of them off, his fingers caressing her toes and ankle before he went to the other. He lifted her leg to get the other off, her muscles relaxing to let him have his way with her legs.
Would she do the same thing if
I were spreading her legs?
He rubbed her other foot and then released it, her bare feet flat on the floor. He stood back up. "Is that more comfortable?"

"Yes, Sir." She could still feel the way his fingers touched and massaged her feet. She looked up, surprised when the pulley began to rise again, thinking that he had her the way he wanted her. Her body was already stretched tall; she couldn't go much more unless her body was pulled off the floor.

"I want you to get on your toes, Sandra. Can you do that for me?"

He looked into her searching eyes as she tried to figure out what was happening.

She had no choice, the straps continuing to draw her arms up, the bottoms of her feet unable to touch the floor completely. She arched up onto her toes, but the straps kept going until she was almost on the tips of her toes like a ballerina. The only thing that kept her from falling over was her bound hands. She could feel every muscle in her body stretched taut.
How long would he leave me like this?
It wouldn't take long before her muscles began to revolt and cramp.

He turned her around, Sandra pirouetting on her toes until she was facing the mirror that he had placed against the wall. "See how beautiful you look, Sandra. That is how we are going to get the judges to sympathize with your plight. They want to see you helpless and repentant."

He called her beautiful, and she couldn't deny the way she looked in 92

the mirror. She'd never seen her body displayed in such a way. Her breasts were thrust out, her legs drawn, her buttocks clenched tight.

She even felt the gentle contractions of her pussy muscles as though they were clenching on an unseen lover. He had her bound and helpless. She watched in the mirror as he walked around behind her, his hand on her naked waist, her pullover pulled up high by the way she was bound. His hand slid around her until she felt him touching her back. She looked at her breasts, ashamed to see her nipples hardening. She didn't want him to think that he was arousing her, but something was.

He pushed up against her ass, feeling her buttocks contracting and clenching from balancing on her toes. It made his cock stir and jerk against her buttocks. His hands slid around her waist again, stopping on her belly so she could see his hands touching her so plainly. He moved his hands in ever widening circle, the pullover pulled up so high that it barely covered her bra. His fingers touched from her waist until he found the bottom of her bra and then quickly slid back down as if he went to high by mistake. Her nipples were responding, growing harder and more pronounced.

She could feel it twitching against her ass, knew it was his cock.

She couldn't stop her buttocks from clenching. She was doing it, teasing him with her ass. She felt so ashamed, but there was nothing she could do to stop herself from arousing him. His hands slid over her smooth stomach, his hands soft and gentle. They moved all the way up, Sandra holding her breath when they touched her bra beneath her pullover, afraid they would touch her breasts and find her shameful nipples. They felt like they were growing bigger in anticipation for his touch. His hands slid back down to the waistband of her jeans, slipping along the edge.

"Girls' jeans are so tight. I'm going to unbutton them so they won't cut into your skin. I want to make sure you are comfortable, I will be gone for at least an hour." He felt her body trembling when his fingers found the snap on her jeans. Her buttocks quivered uncontrollably, her breathing ragged and shallow, her breasts heaving up and down as she grew excited.

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He is going to open my jeans. How much farther would he go?

She felt the pressure go off her jeans when he released the snap, but he didn't stop there. She heard the soft whisper of her zipper sliding down, the gentle pressure of his fingers against her mound as he slid the zipper all the way down. She saw his fingers work on her pants in the mirror, folding the two sides open so that her thin, white panties were revealed. She felt a sudden wetness rush through her pussy.

She still said nothing, even when his hands returned to caressing her stomach. She watched in the mirror as she felt them sliding up and down her naked belly, but this time, there was no thick jeans to stop his fingers. She arched her ass back, rubbing it shamefully against his erection, but she couldn't help it when one of his hands slid into the waistband of her panties and she felt a man's fingers ignite the follicle of her bush and tingles race to her pussy. It was only for the briefest of seconds, but even when they were gone her pubic hairs were still resonating from his touch.

"I have to go now, Sandra. I will be back soon." He reached over to her neck and his lips touched the soft, tender skin of her neck, tasting the sweetness of her perfume. He kissed her skin gently, but then his teeth nibbled lightly on the skin. His hands never left her naked belly, pulling her back onto his erection. She said nothing, did nothing to stop him. Her body trembled in his hands. He left her that way, closing the door behind him to trap her inside.

She didn't know what just happened. All she could see in the mirror was her body bound so sensuously as if she were posing to please Captain Miguel. She could still feel the wetness on her neck where he had kissed and nibbled her skin, forcing her back onto his throbbing erection. She said nothing, but her nipples showed it all.

They were hard and throbbing, wishing that he would come back and touch them. Wishing she could rub her ass on his erection to show him how much she wanted to please him. He was being so nice to her, helping her, protecting her. She saw nothing wrong in the way he was touching her. She was his bound prisoner to do as he pleased.

There was nothing she could do to stop him.

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There was no clock to watch, no windows to see out, all sense of time lost on Sandra. The longer she went alone, the worse her arousal became. All she could see was her bound, erotic pose and all she could feel was the lingering touch of Captain Miguel's hands on her body.

The door opened, and he walked in, the bulge in his pants unable to be hidden, the thought of Sandra waiting for him making him rock hard. He had only been gone for thirty minutes. "The judges left me waiting, but I have an appointment with them in a half hour. I thought I would see how you are doing, Sandra." He walked up to her, staring at her face, only inches from each other. "I am going to have the judges come and visit you so that they can place a face and body with your name. I want them to remember you for something besides your offense. They haven't seen a lovely, young girl like you in a long time, so you need to make an impression. They are thinking of cruel punishment. You must show them a delicate flower that must be protected."

He was staring into her eyes when she felt his hands touch her naked stomach again. They slowly caressed her in widening circles, both hands moving up her stomach. She held her breath when his fingers touched the edge of her bra beneath her pullover, but this time, they didn't stop. She felt two large hands gently cup her breasts. She didn't flinch from the touch or stray from his stare as the fingers began to squeeze her breasts. His hands were powerful; she could feel her nipples ready to burst as the blood was pushed into the very tips.