Chapter Nineteen
Declan
It’s a peaceful night as I stroll through the park with Daphne under a pitch-black sky littered with sparkling specs of salt.
The moon is half full, and there’s no one in sight.
I take one look at Daphne and can’t help but smile.
She’s my soulmate. My single source of happiness in this world.
When I’m with her, all the bad in the world fades away. I love her with all my being.
“Can we remain like this forever?” she asks, offering a kiss on the cheek as payment for a hopeful answer.
“I can’t promise anything forever, but I will promise you this,” I reply, closing my eyes and imagining the bliss we’ll share in our coming days.
“I will love you for as long as I am able to love, whether in this life or the next. Without you, Daphne, my life means nothing.” I picture the joy spreading across her face as she smiles, blushing a little.
“Few people are given the opportunities to meet those with whom they share connections like ours, let alone the chances to enjoy them. What we have is rare, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. ”
Unexpectedly, I realize I no longer hear Daphne’s footsteps following me. I turn around to see where she’s gone.
“You’re sweet, Declan.” She’s directly in front of me, a vengeful look on her face. “There’s only one problem, hahahahaha.” She begins to laugh hysterically.
Unease rises within me as I try to approach her, but something’s tugging on me, holding me back.
“What’s going on, Daphne?” I ask, my eyes probing. “Why can’t I get near you?” I look down at my hands and then back at her, puzzled.
“What did you expect, Declan?” Her question comes in a harsh sinister tone. “You must pay the price.”
“What?” I’m lost, confusion flooding over me. “What price? Daphne, you’re not making any sense. Please, tell me what’s happening.”
“You know exactly what’s going on,” she replies coldly. “You fail me.”
I stand there, stunned by what I see. Daphne slowly drawing her right hand up from her side, pointing a gun at me.
“Wait! No—”
Terrified by another god forsaken dream, I’m startled awake.
I naturally attempt to sit up to rise from bed, only, I’m not in a bed.
And I can’t sit. In fact, I’m already vertical.
I don’t know where I am. It’s pitch black, and the air feels damp.
There’s something against my chest. I try to pull my arms to my chest, but can’t.
They’re bound at the wrists, and when I tug, I find I’m—wait—I’m strapped to something.
Straining some, my torso is drawn forward, smushing harder into, what is this?
A tree? I can’t tell. My eyes are open, but I can’t see a thing.
Where am I?
I try to recall the last thing that happened. I had a dream about Daphne, but I can’t remember before I was asleep. I work to move my legs, but there’s something holding them in place, restricted even more than my hands. Glancing down it’s hard to tell, but—no way. I—I think I’m naked.
Why am I fucking naked?
It takes fucking forever, but my sight slowly adjusts to the darkness, and when it does, I turn my head back and forth, as far as I can, expecting other clues to my whereabouts, but it’s useless.
To the left, black. To the right, black.
I’m sure behind me is the same, and straight ahead, you guessed it, black.
“Hello?” I call out to anyone who may be able to hear. My voice is scratchy and dry. “Is anyone there?” Nothing. I’m in a dungeon strapped to a telephone pole, with no idea how I got here. Out of breath from screaming, I close my eyes again and try to bring back details from before.
I spoke to my girlfriend. That didn’t go great. Doc got mad. Daphne, yes, we talked about Daphne.
“Wait,” I say aloud. “Miss Paxon.”
Just then, the sounds of twisting metal echoes from behind me, followed by the unmistakable opening of a door.
Someone’s here.
“Where am I?” I call out in the dark.
“Missster Roberts,” a familiar hiss responds.
“Miss Paxon, is that you?”
“Very good, Missster Roberts.”
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
Without warning, rows of bulbs snap on above me, flashing a burst of light across the room so bright I’m forced to wince.
Unremarkable at first glance, the room appears to be nothing more than slabs of granite with a ceiling obstructed by the excessive glow, and of course, the thick wooden post to which I’m tied.
The clatter of pointed stilettos clack against the ground, marching at a fast clip at my rear.
“Like what you see, Missster Roberts?” Miss Paxon asks, much closer now.
“Where am I?” I reply in earnest. “And what the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, come on now, Missster Roberts,” she whispers in my ear, and I’m jolted by a playful smack on what is most definitely my bare ass cheek. Then, she steps by my left side and into view. “Look… harder.”
Fairly recovered from the unexpected blinding when she arrived, I look Miss Paxon over.
She’s changed her outfit. Though she still stands tall in massive heels, gone is the skirt, the stockings and the blouse.
She’s replaced them with what I can only liken to a swimsuit.
But this isn’t meant for the beach. No, made from vacuum-tight vinyl, Miss Paxon’s body is tucked and sucked tight.
There’s a short zipper running from her bulging breasts up to the collar covering her throat.
Her thighs meet below what I can see, even through the shiny taut fabric, is a profound set of lips.
I take her in millimeter by millimeter from the ground north. She has her platinum-highlighted black hair slicked and pulled tight behind her head. Her irises glow cherry-red and match her satin lipstick.
Fuck me.
I must look like a lovesick puppy, because Miss Paxon snaps her fingers in my face to steal my attention back.
“I don’t mean me, Missster Roberts,” she says. “Though your reaction does confirm this will be quite enjoyable.”
“Sorry, what?” I blurt out, unsure if I’m even awake. I’m almost certain this could be the beginning of an amazing wet dream.
“Ha-ha.” She lets out another of those evil giggles.
“I wasn’t asking you if you approve of my attire, Missster Roberts.
” She pauses to peer at me—well, a part of me.
“But I’m pleased to see you like it.” She slowly licks her lips, and I can’t tell if this is part of a show or if this is genuinely pleasing for her.
“Take a look around, Missster Roberts. Really look, though. Focus. And tell me how you feel about what you see.”
Fine.
I force myself to look long and hard at the wall I assume is ahead of me.
Even with the ballpark lighting it’s not overtly apparent.
I squint and when I ease off, that’s when I’ve overcome with nausea.
I blink fast several times and lurch my head right, and this time it’s even easier to see.
But there’s nothing. Just bare dark walls, all far off. I’m in a fucking black hole.
“Hahahaha.” Miss Paxon bursts out with a full-belly laugh. “You should see your face, Missster Roberts. It’s priceless.” She keeps chuckling with her arms wrapped around her waist in a self-hug. “You’ll be fine. Well, eventually.”
Overrun with horror, all I can do is gawk. There aren’t this many sex toys at an adult film convention. My starfish clenches at the thought of anything trying to gain entry, though my erection doesn’t get the message that we’re done being turned on.
“What are you going to do to me?”
Stepping forward, Miss Paxon leans her face against my wooden post with a playful glint in her fiery eyes. I watch as she reaches toward my groin. Heat surges up my body and my blood pressure jumps as another wave of shock washes over me. I don’t—I can’t.
“Whatever it takes, Missster Roberts,” she says with a sultry tone while taking my hard cock in her hand. Her skin is warm and velvety, not at all rough how I’d think a woman’s flesh in her forties would feel. She’s subtle but firm when she starts to squeeze my shaft.
This is such a betrayal. But good lord is it… I mean she is just… perfection.
This has to be a ploy, but when our eyes lock, I can’t help it—I melt a little. Neither of us blink, and, I know I’m wrong for feeling—whatever I’m feeling. I never knew being tied to a post as a man and milked by a gorgeous older woman could be a thing, but, kink unlocked, I guess.
My breathing hastens the longer she’s holding me, and I can feel myself hardening even more in her grasp.
Then, as though she’s reading the signs, Miss Paxon’s grip tightens with the might of a vice before releasing a smidge of pressure to stroke my length slowly.
Her firm hand pulls to the tip of my cock, where precum is starting to leak out.
She swirls her wrist and coats her fingers.
Leaning in closer to my face, so that her nose is practically touching mine, she glides her hand down my hard-on, then back up and repeats.
“Fuck.” The word spills across my lips, and my legs begin to grow weak.
“Does that feel good, Missster Roberts?”
Her question has to be rhetorical, because I could come all over the floor any second.
“Ss—so—so fucking good,” I moan my answer as my eyes gently roll back.
Miss Paxon clutches me harder for a beat, and more precum drizzles out of me. But then, she relinquishes my erection and draws her hand back quickly, held out to her side, before swinging it back at my throbbing cock.
SLAP!