Safeword Quinacridone (17 page)

“Keep them in your closet, in the back of your sock drawer.” His eyes sparkled with laughter. “Or some other place no one’s likely to rummage
. If it’ll make you feel better
I can arrange for you to have a safe deposit box at my bank.” The smile in his eyes extended to his mouth and his whole face as he said, “You’re beautiful, Cara Mia. Put them on, please.”

Cara knew he had enough money this wouldn’t seem a big deal to him, but she was uncomfortable letting him buy her too much. Part of it was her desire to be clear she loved him for who he was and she didn’t want his money; but if she were honest, she was also uneasy with the idea he was actually buying
her
. Being ‘bought and paid for’ had been a great fantasy with the guys who meant nothing, but she wanted to belong to Travis with no money changing hands. Perhaps a little of her reticence was an inferiority complex, since she could never hope to measure up to the women he used to pay, but whatever the reason, it was important she not let him appear, in any way, to be paying for her.

Still, the earrings and necklace, along with the dress, made her look and feel like a fairy-tale princess, and with him wearing an ultra-fashionable charcoal suit, she went from dreading their trip down the red carpet to almost looking forward to it.

* * * *

Cara was star-struck at first, and had trouble even saying hello as they mixed and mingled in the lobby. Thankfully, Travis effortlessly kept conversation going around her, so she felt no pressure to have to say the right thing.

The movie was great, and they were invited to a party afterwards, which turned out to be more fun than she’d anticipated.

However, one of the actresses couldn’t seem to keep her hands off Travis. Cara was annoyed at first but at some point her sense of humor took over and she sat back and delighted in his attempts to politely rebuff the beautiful, but very drunk, celebrity.

However, when the prima donna literally fell into his lap and said, “Oh, come on Mister Tall and Sexy, what do you want with that wallflower when you could have me?” Cara’s rarely seen temper flared.

They were seated
in separate chairs
with a group around the pool
,
and Cara stood and walked behind Travis, leaning down so her face was beside his
and
looking at this super-famous actress from inches away.

Aware they’d drawn attention, she kept her voice low as she purred, “She has a point, Travis. My ass is still raw from the caning the other night, and my breasts and nipples are still so sore from your whip, even breathing hurts. I wondered why you installed bondage equipment on the plane, but I wouldn’t mind seeing her strung up on the cross with lash marks on her back. Or, no, on her breasts.” She looked at the actress a second and pulled her lips between her teeth, as if the thought turned her on. Speaking a little louder, so the people around could hear, she added. “Can we take her back and play with her? Please?”

The actress’ eyes grew to the size of saucers, the pout dropped from her lips, and she looked from Travis to Cara a dozen times before standing and walking away, speechless. Cara was reminded of the time the family cat had fallen off the arm of the sofa and attempted to strut pompously from the room, pretending it hadn’t happened.

Travis laughed, twisted to grab her, and pulled her gracefully into his lap. He kissed her breathless before saying, “You’re naughty, and I have no idea what kind of fallout we’ll have to deal with when she blabs, but it’ll be worth it. Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”

Cara smiled, eyes twinkling. “As drunk as she is? No one’ll believe her. And since you don’t have bondage equipment on the plane, just let someone interview you while travelling because you’re too busy to do it any other time. Prove part of the story is wrong and the whole thing falls apart.”

“Damn, you’re devious.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen this
side of you. I like it, but...
what brought it on?”

She shrugged. “It was funny at first, but then she pissed me off, I guess.” Not wanting to tell him she didn’t appreciate being called a wallflower, probably because the truth hurts so much more than false contentions, she changed the subject. “You know, it’s been a while since my ass and breasts hurt at the same time. Any chance we can fool around on the plane?”

“I’d planned a scene for the way home, but without impact play. Will you settle for objectification and a little bondage pain?”

“Settle?” She laughed, grinning with delight as she said, “Well, gee, it’ll be a sacrifice, but I suppose.”

He looked up, glanced around, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s stick around anothe
r fifteen minutes and socialize
so it won’t look like we left right after the confrontation. You haven’t eaten
much;
let’s check out the refreshments, shall we?”

* * * *

Travis tortured her in the limo all the way back to the airport, making her take her panties off and sit with her ass on the edge of the seat and her legs spread, as he sat on the floor and mercilessly teased with his tongue.

Her panties were in his pocket as they boarded the plane, and he motioned her towards the bedroom in the back as he detoured to the front to speak with the crew.

His final instructions before leaving the limo had been, “Go to the bedroom, close the door, strip, and bend over the bed so I’ll have a nice view of your pussy and ass when I walk in.”

Cara suddenly wasn’t tired at all and her pulse picked up as she removed the diamonds and kicked off her shoes. Not knowing how much time she had, she quickly hung the dress and stowed the jewelry in their original boxes, tucking her shoes and the boxes into her travel bag before bending over the bed. He’d positioned her enough, she knew how he’d want her — back arched sharply down, legs spread, ass pushed as high as she could manage.

He didn’t make her wait long, bent over the bed and on display, before she heard the door snick open and close quickly. He walked to his bag, and a large bundle of black rope hit the bed beside her. She reached to feel it, surprised at how soft it was.

“It’s silk rope so it won’t irritate your skin. Let’s get buckled into the seats in here for take-off.

She stood and saw he was holding a large dildo on her seat, and she met his eyes, wondering if he were serious.

“Have a seat, Cara Mia. Pussy or ass — it’s your choice but you aren’t getting any lube.”

She was soaking wet from the tongue torture in the limo, but still, making her sit herself down on it? He didn’t look like he expected her to argue, and the plane pulled away from the hangar and made her have to sidestep to keep her balance.

The dildo was textured and she felt every ridge and knob on the way down as her pussy spread to accept the invasion, and the plane’s engines made everything vibrate.

He buckled her in, then himself, and pushed a button to speak with the pilot to let him know they were belted and ready to go.

“This is your plane; couldn’t we just stay in bed and pretend we have our seatbelts on?”

The dildo inside of her came to life and she gasped, then groaned.

He smirked
as he showed
her the control, and
then
answered her question
with a serious look on his face
. “I once wrecked a McLaren Roadster on the autobahn. They tell me I was going around a hundred and sixty but I wasn’t paying attention to my speed, so I’m not sure. I swerved to miss a deer, the back end lifted at an angle
,
and I went end over end. I cartwheeled forever and didn’t think the car would ever come to a stop. Everything hurt for weeks, but I didn’t have a scratch on me.” He shrugged. “Supposedly because I never actually hit anything except for the road every time I flipped, and those were more glancing blows than direct impacts; but I’ve never been so scared in my life. I didn’t always wear my seatbelt back then
,
but I’d put it on that day, and pretty much the only time I don’t wear one now is when I’m riding in a limo in traffic where we won’t pick up much speed.”

“But we’ll take the seatbelts off once we’re in the air, why wear them at all?”

“Most accidents happen during take-off and landing, and your chances of surviving drastically increase if you’re belted in.” He raised an eyebrow. “I know you’re horny, why are we talking about seatbelts?”

“
Because
I’m horny, and I want to be in bed and not in this damned seat.”

She saw his thumb move on the control and the vibrator jerked into a staccato rhythm. She pulled her feet onto the seat in front of her ass and pushed her hips into the seatbelt. “Oh, god. Please tell me what kind of vibrator that is so I can buy one and take it home. Shit, I’m going to come...”

He turned it off, amused with himself. “Not yet
.
I want you on edge until we start.”

When they were finally airborne and the captain let Travis know they could unfasten their seatbelts, he said, “Stand up and grasp your hands behind your back.”

She did as instructed, and he asked, “Can you
straighten
your elbows?”

It was terribly uncomfortable, bordering on painful, but she managed.

He moved her to the bed and had her kneel in the center and repeat the position with her arms. His hands skillfully wrapped rope around them, weaving a complex spiderweb in a matter of minutes. She relaxed her elbows again, as much as the rope would allow, and he said, “Keep them straight Cara. Here, let’s just lay you down. Come off your knees and lean back, please.”

Before long he had her lying on her back, on top of her bound arms
,
with her legs trussed out to the side
s
and pulled up as far as her muscles would allow. The stretch in her shoulders, chest, and legs overpowered her arousal, and everything
hurt
.

“
Yellow
Travis. It’s too much.”

“Can you give me three minutes to make it better before deciding if I need to loosen the ropes?”

She took a breath and considered, wrinkling her brow as she said, “I think so, but this doesn’t feel sexy.”

He smiled and ran his hand down her stomach, beside her clit, and circled it. “Oh, I think it’s very sexy. Let me show you something.”

He reached to the bottom of the bed and retrieved a blanket in the same odd pattern as the sheets. She hadn’t realized the folded blanket had been there, it’d blended so well. He tossed it over her right leg, lining it up with her hip, and it suddenly looked as if she didn’t have a leg.

He reached to the foot of the bed again and came up with another identical blanket, which he threw over her left leg.

The affect brought to mind the stories of women having their legs amputated to make their holes more available, easier to access; and her hips pushed up involuntarily as her blood shot straight to boiling.

His look was a little cocky now and she recognized the transformation as he went into role-play. He stood to undress, saying, “It took a while for you to heal from the
surgery,
but the doctor’s finally given the okay for me to use something other than your mouth. You’ve had six weeks to get used to being stored when not in use, put on the toilet every two hours to see if you need to go, and being wiped by others since you can’t do anything for yourself with no arms or legs. You’re primarily fed a liquid diet through a hose hanging above you, but when it amuses me to feed you real food, I do.”

Naked, he crawled on the bed and kneeled. “No arms and no legs, just a torso and head. Three holes to fuck with nothing to get in the way.”

His cock pressed into her, spreading her, violating her; and the mindfuck of not having her arms, and her legs seeming to have disappeared, had her almost believing she was nothing but a torso.

Her orgasm struck without warning and she screamed in ecstasy as waves of bliss washed over her and her pussy seized and convulsed around his cock.

He kept her riding the high for several long minutes, but as soon as the tremors quieted and she could breathe again, her shoulders, arms, hips, inner thighs, knees, and calves all came back to life at once. When she tried to move to relieve the tension and ache, it pulled the muscles and joints even worse and she shrieked in pain.

“Yellow, yellow... NO! Quinacridone! Shit, it hurts!!
Quinacridone
!!!”

Travis stretched to the night table and before he returned to her, the tension on her right leg was gone. He leaned over her and her left leg was free. She saw odd-looking scissors in his hands as he gently moved her leg enough to roll her sideways, and three snips later her arms were free.

He rubbed her shoulders and she pulled away, crossing her arms in front of her, right hand on left shoulder, and vice versa, trying to convince the muscles to chill out and stop hurting.

“As hot as the concept was, I don’t think I want to do that anymore.”

“What if I could work you up to it? I had a lot of slack in the rope on your arms,
but
what if we back off so it’s more comfortable and make it an eighth of an inch tighter every week or two until you can wear armbinders? Sometimes it can take a year or more to train the arms all the way back; I’m not asking you to do it overnight. Same with your legs; we can get you started on stretching exercises so eventually it won’t hurt to have them tied out of the way.”