TrickorTreat (6 page)

Her body tensed. Her throat jammed shut. She could barely
hear for the blood rushing in her ears, but she opened the door.

And stood there, staring.

He was incredible. Dark knee breeches and over-the-knee
boots accentuated the strength and muscles in his legs. He wore a purple silk
sash round his waist, and the full sleeves of his shirt billowed in the night
as he stood, feet apart, and hands on his waist. The knotted kerchief over his
dark hair, and his eye-patch completed the picture. With hair a little longer,
and shirt hanging open, he’d fit right on the cover of a romance novel. And
come to that, bent backwards over his arm, she’d show a prodigious amount of
bosom and leg. Maybe there was something about those paperbacks she covered
before reading on the bus.

“I didn’t come to stand on the front step all evening,” he
said. “Although the sight of you in the light was worth the trip.”

She stood aside and let him in. In the bright light of her
sitting room, he stood even more magnificent. He smiled and she smiled back,
until she noticed the whip tucked in his sash.

She gulped, staring like a mouse caught in a snake’s eyes.
“Why?” she asked.

He rested his hand over the top of the handle, his long
fingers rippling the tresses. “I brought it for you.”

She shook her head. “You’re not whipping me!”

“It’s purely for pleasure, not chastisement,” he said, as he
pulled it out of his belt.

The sight of the long, blue tresses dangling from his hand
both horrified and fascinated her. “If that’s your idea, you’d better go right
now!” And if he did, she’d be desolated.

“Bear with me long enough to prove what I say.”

“How can being hurt be pleasurable?”

“It’s very pleasurable in fact, but that’s not where we’ll
start. Trust me in this, Katie,” He took hold of her hand. “Let me show you.”
He looked up at her, his lips parted in the beginning of a smile. “It won’t
hurt.”

“Okay.” What the hell had she said that for? Because she was
as fascinated as she was scared. She gasped as he lifted the whip and tickled
her wrist and the back of her hand.

She stared. The tresses were bright blue and green to match
the braided handle. Some looked like fine leather, others were ribbons. As Jud
gently flicked his wrist, the tresses caressed her skin. A little sigh came
unbidden, as he brushed back and forth on her arm. “You like that?” It was more
statement than question.

Katie nodded, unwilling to commit herself by agreeing but
wanting him to continue. He didn’t disappoint. He trailed the soft thongs, up
her arm to her shoulder. He merely brushed a few inches of leather and satin
over her skin, and she felt it deep in her pussy. “Why?” she whispered.

“Why not?” he replied. “You like it don’t you?”

She nodded.

As if waiting for that agreement, he brought the whip up to
her shoulder again, but this time, he trailed the tresses across her breasts,
until her nipples hardened to little points of sensation. Her head dropped back
against the wall, and she let out a low moan. She wanted this to go on forever.
Every touch, every little brush of ribbon and leather, sent wild thrills of
pleasure across her skin, until all sensations seemed to be pooled between her
legs.

“Jud…” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand and kissed her wrist. “Turn around.”

She obeyed without hesitation, wanting more, needing the
caress of the whip on her shoulders and back.

It wasn’t until the tresses trailed down her back and over
her ass, she remembered just how much naked flesh this costume revealed, and by
then she didn’t much care. When he whispered, “Part your legs,” she spread them
wide. Moaning with sheer bliss as leather and satin kissed the inside of her
thighs.

She was leaning into the wall, breathing fast and losing
herself in the wild sensations, when she realized with disappointment, he’d
stopped. “No! I want more!” she cried as she turned to look at him. It took a
few seconds to realize she’d been shouting.

“Katie, my love, there is so much more,” he replied. “Much,
much, more, and we have all night.” He dropped the whip and reached out to pull
her into his arms. “You looked so terrified of my flogger, and I wanted to
reassure you.”

“You succeeded in making me horny!”

“I’m so thrilled.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek, and
the swell at the top of her left breast. “Before we start playing in earnest,
we need to talk.”

The man was always talking! Right now what she wanted was a
good fuck, not chatter. “You get me hot and horny and then want conversation?”

“Trust me love, after this conversation you’ll be even
hornier.” An arm round her shoulders, he started towards the kitchen. ”A nice
cup of coffee will perk us both up. Seems to me you’re feeling a bit wobbly.”

“You did that!”

“I know.” Damn him, he was smirking. But if the past few
minutes were any indication of what she had to look forward to, he was entitled
to be pleased with himself. “Where do you keep your coffee?”

“In the cabinet.”

She reached to open the door, but his hand on her arm
stopped her. “I’ll make it. You’d better sit down. Give those shaky knees a
break. Save your energy. I’m going to ask a lot of you once we get upstairs.”

“I can manage to make coffee.”

“I never doubted, but I’m doing it. Now if you want to help,
bring in the bag I left on the front porch.”

She bit back the comment that if she was too weak-kneed to
make coffee, where did he think she’d get the strength to go to the front door
and back? Perhaps this was all part of obeying. She wasn’t too sure she’d be
that good at it, but she might as well try. It had been part of the deal after
all, and if the rest of the night was anything like the little interlude with
the whip, she’d go along--all the way.

With great care she peered out the front door. If fetching
his bag involved stepping out onto the porch, he could do it himself. She
wasn’t freezing her butt off-literally-for anything. Not even the promise of
kinky sex.

The brown paper grocery sack stood just inches from the
threshold. She reached out for the bag, grabbed it, and made sure the door was
locked behind her and the porch light off. Late night trick or treaters could
go elsewhere.

“Thanks, dear.” Jud looked up from pouring boiling water
into the press pot. “Please put it on the table, we can go through it while we
have our coffee.”

She set it down, just inches from the blue flogger that he’d
arranged on the table, like a peacock’s tail. Gingerly, she ran her fingers
through the spread tresses. She’d been right, some were soft leather, some
ribbons. They slipped through her fingers as gently as they’d stroked her arms
and shoulders earlier. Was he going to use it again? Her crotch came alive at
the thought. Oh, Please!

“You like it after all, don’t you?” She turned to find him
watching her. “Don’t you?” he repeated. She nodded. “Katie, speak to me. It’s
important. Part of any dominant/submissive relationship is communication.”

Mentioning ‘submissive’ just about dried up her tongue along
with her throat. “Is that what we have?” she croaked.

“Not yet, but I hope we will one day. I believe you will
make a perfect submissive--with a little direction. You like the touch of the
flogger on your skin, don't you?”

“Yes.” It was more of a long sigh that a word.

Jud grinned as he pressed down the plunger in the pot. “I’m
so glad, Katie.” He reached for two mugs off the hooks, and poured the coffee
before carrying the mugs over to the table, and reaching in the fridge for
milk. “Sit down. I want you to feel that polished seat against your bare ass.”
It touched off nerve endings she didn’t know she had. Against her soft flesh,
the wood felt hard and smooth. “Open your legs. Wide.” She stared, but obeyed.

She wrapped her hands round the mug and looked up at Jud.
“What’s in the bag?”

“Toys. Have a look.”

Did she really want to? Yes. Time to stop hesitating. The
whip she dreaded, had turned out to be a sensual delight, so would everything
else in the bag.

Like the scarves. Three of them, in shades of blue and
green. They were silk, light in her hands, and warm to her skin.

“Why do you think I brought them?”

“To tie me up.” Her cunt tingled with anticipation. Was he
right then? This would be pleasure, not discomfort.

“I might blindfold you with them.” He tilted his head on one
side and watched her. “Would you like that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Tell the truth.”

Deep breath first. “The thought scares me, but it also
excites me.”

He grinned with sheer delight. “Oh, Katie, I think I’ve
found my dream woman.”

“You dream of scaring me?”

“No, I dream of having wonderful, thrilling sex with you. I
dream of you whimpering in my arms, begging for more of what only I can give
you. I dream of you naked and bound, legs spread open. I dream of trailing my
flogger over your naked back. I dream of the sighs and grunts you’ll make when
I bring you to climax, and I dream of holding you, limp, and sweaty and soft in
my arms as we both fall asleep.”

“Want to go upstairs right now?”

“Take out the rest of the stuff in the bag.”

A bottle of massage oil. Nice. Her shoulders tightened at
the prospect of Jud’s long fingers rubbing jasmine-scented oil into her skin.
Or was she the one intended to massage him? No hardship there, she couldn’t
wait to see him naked. At the bottom of the bag, a smaller white one,
containing a tube of lubricant, and a small rubber article. She looked at the
bullet-shaped object, with its flared-out base and frowned at Jud. “Look here,
Buster! I clearly said, no back door. What’s this for?”

“Apologies. I thought you meant no anal sex. Didn’t realize
you meant no sex toys either.” He stood up, picked the tube and plug up and
walked over to the trash and dropped them in. “If you don’t agree, we don’t do
it.”

The sight of the full dress pirate pumping the lid of the
pedal bin made her smile. “Are we going upstairs now?”

“Soon.” He walked over and stood beside her. She made to get
up but his hand, strong on her shoulder stopped her. “Just two more things. I
want to explain our roles, and give you your safeword.”

“What’s a safeword?” She could guess. The thought of needing
one had her fists clenched. Was this really a good idea?

How could she doubt it when he smiled down at her, his dark
eyes twinkling. Sex with Jud would be fun. If they ever got that far! ‘Make her
wait’ seemed to be his modus operandi.

“A safeword, my dear, is the most important communication
between us. If I do anything you want me to stop, use it.”

“What happened to ‘just say no’?”

“In the fantasy we’ll be playing out, ‘no’ will be part of
the fun. I’m the big, bad pirate, abducting and ravishing my virgin captive. I
expect you to say ‘no’ a good few times, and I will totally ignore your pleas
for mercy, and have my wicked way with you.”

Her chest went so tight she gasped. “Why?”

His hand eased up her shoulder to the base of her neck. She
couldn’t hold back the shiver. “Because my beautiful, the prospect excites me
and judging by the flush on your face, and the sparkle in your eyes, it arouses
you too. No matter how much your reason says ‘no’.”

It’s not so much reason saying ‘no’. Force and rape are
horrific.”

“I agree, dear. So does any decent, right-thinking human,
but this is play. I could no more rape you than cut off my own head. I want to
play subduing you. I want to pretend to overpower you. To make believe you’re
helpless, but you’ll be in control of the action. At the word from you, we
stop.”

“If that’s the case, how come you call me submissive? Seems
I’m the one controlling the action.”

His cool lips on her forehead underscored just how flushed
and hot she’d become. “Right first time, Katie. You do. It’s all a big game,
for our mutual pleasure. I act the big baddie. You pretend to be the frail,
little captive, and together we have a marvelous time.”

If they didn’t she’d need a conversation with her vibrator!
She was so hot for it that his fingertips stroking the neckline of her dress
had her itching inside. She was so wet between her legs. She could smell
herself over the coffee in their mugs, and his musky aftershave. “Let’s get
started then, Long John Silver.”

“I’m Black Jack Tar, and you’d better remember that, my
pretty! But first, the safe word. What’s your full name?”

“Katherine Marjorie Fairfax.”

“Use that. Say your full name, and I’ll stop whatever I’m
doing.”

“Okay.” Maybe that rotten middle name would have its use. “I
say it. We stop. What happens next? You go home?”

“Hell, no! I ask what’s the matter, and do something else.”
He put both hands on her shoulders and looked down at her with need-dark eyes.
“I’m not walking out on you, until you are so sated, you don’t know what day it
is. Heck, I’m not leaving then. I plan on taking you out for breakfast.”

“I’m going to live that long then? You don’t make your
captives walk the plank?”

“Nah! I’d much rather strip you naked and ravish you, Lady
Katherine, my virgin prisoner.”

“I’ve news for you, Black Jack Tar. I’m not a virgin!”

“Thank God for that!”

He pulled her close, angling his hips into hers. Yes, he
didn’t need a shy virgin! He had a raging hard-on, and if the pressure on her
belly was anything to go by, he was enormous. His hands heated through the thin
fabric. His fingers splayed on her bottom, pulling her even closer as he worked
his hips, grinding his hard cock against her. “Get ready, little prisoner. I
have no mercy on my captives.”

She tilted her chin up. It wasn’t quite what she hoped as it
gave her an eye lock with him, but… “Indeed!” She tossed her head and put on
what she hoped was a haughty air. “Unhand me! How dare you so threaten me! My
Father, the Royal Governor, will have you hung from the yard-arm!” What ever a
yard-arm was.