Black Card Black

Chapter Five

B y the time she got home, she’d talked herself out of it. Completely, entirely. She wasn’t thinking clearly; she was making decisions based around emotions. Very strong emotions that made her want to scream-cry at the stoplight. Her impulsive, vindictive streak wanted to get out, wanted to go for a run, but it was fine. She had it leashed.

She drove down her street. Under control. What a normal thing.

She stopped for a group of kids circling on bikes. They waved to her, and she waved back. Routine. She’d done that a thousand times. She could just keep doing that a thousand more times.

She parked the car. How many more times would she do that in her normal, routine life? Countless, certainly.

Ryan was on the porch, checking the little black mailbox. Essie would get out, kiss him on the cheek, tickle his side, and ask what he wanted to do about dinner.

As she stepped out of the car, a young woman jogged by, hair bouncing in a ponytail. She wore one of those stretchy grey exercise outfits. She had headphones jammed into her ears and was staring straight ahead as she ran, her eyes meeting Essie’s with a brief nod in her direction before lowering her head and running a little faster past them.

Essie looked up to see Ryan watching the woman as she ran away from them.

Their eyes met too, briefly, and he went back inside the house.

How would he feel knowing Woods looked at me like that?

The thought was heated and vicious. And she liked feeling vicious a lot more than mourning her marriage.

At work that Friday she received a text with a link. It was a simple document that outlined that she was a consenting adult, understood the risks, etc. She read it at her desk, ignoring the occasional ding from her computer as emails came in.

The form requested that she have an emergency contact.

That was easy. Carly.

She’d have to face Carly and get through her smirking and saying, “I told you so,” but that was fine. For once, Essie was going to be the interesting one. She loved Carly to death but sometimes, sometimes her best friend's constant desire to be the cool, aloof older sister to her got on Essie’s nerves. Carly was so wise, so cynical…

But she hadn’t done this.

Below is a list of kinks/scenarios. Check yes on those you are comfortable with, or interested in trying.

Choking

Spanking

Degradation

Use of toys (dildos, vibrators, wands…)

Whips

Bondage

Marking

She scrolled down the list, eyes widening at the possibilities, trying to imagine each one.

Trying to imagine Woods doing all of them to her.

Essie checked a few, but at the bottom she noticed a special one:

Black Card’s Choice: We’ll do whatever the fuck we want to you.

Somewhere in the office behind her, a coworker asked if they were getting new monitors. Outside, a train whistled. Another email dinged on her desktop.

There was a possibility that this was going to be the most exciting thing she’d ever done.

And she didn’t want Woods to think of her as vanilla and boring. Maybe that was how Ryan saw her; maybe that was how she’d gotten into this in the first place.

She checked Black Card’s Choice with her thumb and sent it back to them.

Then she pretended to focus on her work. She answered two emails and made copies. She was fine, utterly fine, until her phone rang.

It was Woods.

“We’ll take you tonight,” he said. “9 pm. Text us an address.”

He hung up before she could respond.

Essie left work early, telling her boss she didn’t feel well. That was, at least in part, the truth. Her stomach was doing backflips and she’d chewed the nails on her left hand to bare nubs.

Carly, at least, didn’t laugh.

They stood briefly on Carly’s front porch; Essie told her everything very quickly, eager to be off and away in case Carly wanted to talk her out of it.

She didn’t. “Be careful. Send me the address of the hotel before you leave. You have that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Keep your phone on. I will call to check in. Otherwise—” Carly sparked up a cigarette and looked behind her to make sure her husband wasn’t listening. “Get fucked, Essie.”

“I… will do my best,” she replied.

“I’m proud of you,” Carly said suddenly.

“What?”

“Proud of you. Ya know, not taking shit laying down. Getting revenge.” She blew smoke. “Pretty badass.”

“Just trying to be like you,” Essie said. They hugged briefly. Carly was not overly fond of displays of affection, but this was a rare exception.

It was really happening.

Ryan didn’t notice that his wife shaved her legs or spent hours in the bathtub. He didn’t notice the moisturizer lathered onto her elbows and shins, as if the Black Card Men would suddenly decide a dry elbow would make her unfuckable.

He sat at his computer, ignorant to the eyeshadow, the lip gloss, the studded earrings and the careful, primly pinned-back hairstyle. She strode past him in a thin white tank top and tiny gray shorts that clung to her in a way that made her slightly embarrassed.

If he smelled the perfume when she hugged him, he didn’t mention it. He did see the bag slung over her shoulder, though. “Are you going somewhere?”

Essie nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to go stay with Carly. It’s her birthday.”

(It wasn’t.)

“I forgot. How long will you be gone?”

“I’ll be back Saturday evening.”

That look of greed washed over his face; he didn’t even try to hide it. “Okay, okay yeah. Sounds good. I might…” He jerked his thumb back at the computer, and for a second, she wondered if he was going to accidentally tell the truth. “I might see what one of my friends is doing.”

“Have fun,” Essie replied, deciding to beg Woods to cum in her mouth.

Whatever there had been with her husband was dead. There was only the hurting left.

Well, and revenge.

Revenge could come first.

Smart, sensible women like Essie weren’t supposed to dress like this.

They weren’t supposed to walk alone at night wearing shorts that barely covered her.

They weren’t supposed to meet hot men for anonymous sex.

In fact, women weren’t supposed to want sex at all. It was supposed to be love. She could hear every bit of advice, warning, reproach, and guidance she’d received over the course of her entire life, yearning to stop her from doing this.

But she’d done as she had been told. She met someone, married him, and set her sights on gentle, wholesome, tender lovemaking. That was respectable. It was honest. She didn’t go out to clubs and she didn’t flirt with anyone. She had severed any notions of risky, exhilarating sexuality to fit her role as loving wife.

And he cheated on her.

She heard the van rumbling down the road and suppressed a smile. She refused to turn around and face it, even as the headlights flooded the area around her, illuminating the sidewalk and bathing the trimmed hedges in white light.

The brakes squeaked but she didn’t turn around.

The van door slid open, grinding on its tracks. She kept walking. Her heart was beating very fast. Soon, she’d feel their hands. Would they be rough? Would they warn her first? Would they ask for her ID to make sure? Or would they just take her, slap her across the face and tell her to get fucking ready for it, you belong to us now Essie.

Footsteps behind her. She walked a little quicker— why is it so hot to be chased? —before breaking into a run.

“Oh no you don’t,” one of them said.

And then they were on her. Black gloved hands, white hockey masks that made their breath heavy and muffled as the two men grabbed her. One around her hips, the other capturing her with massive arms around her shoulders.

“Hold her still,” the other grunted. He had a roll of tape and quickly bound her wrists behind her back. Her legs were next, and then, with breathtaking ease, she was tossed over the large man’s shoulder and carried to the open door.

This is it, this is real, I’ve been fucking kidnapped, oh my God.

Inside the van, she was laid across their laps. The van had been fitted with a bench seat that ran parallel to the walls, like a limousine. She caught a glimpse of it as the bag was torn off, before her head was shoved down into the thighs of one the men. A gloved hand pulled her hair back and made her turn to look into the dark void of the masked man’s eyes. He had a massive, powerful chest; it strained against the black T-shirt he was wearing. His hand seemed to engulf her entire face as it clamped around her jawline, a gloved thumb hooking against her lower lip. His other hand dug into the front of his pants and pulled out his cock; it curved upward and seemed ridiculously hard already.

The other man who had captured her bent her over his lap, a hand squeezing her ass while the other draped over the small of her back, holding her firmly in place.

She could hear their breath, panting behind the masks. She could smell hints of their colognes and body washes, citruses and cedar scents. Faintly, there was the smell of fresh linen, like clothes that just got out of the wash. Woods.

She remembered how he smelled, and that’s only something she did when she had a crush—

There wasn’t time to think. If there was, she’d have backed out. This was insane; every sense of self-preservation told her this was a bad idea.

But a dick was already in her mouth.

“It’s good to see you, Essie,” Woods said from the driver's seat. “You’ve met Owen and Levi. You have Levi’s dick in your mouth right now. Essie, do me a favor and say, ‘Hello, Levi.’”

Levi held her still, his dick forcing its way past the back of her teeth, hitting her throat. For a brief, struggling second she couldn’t breathe. Then he began bobbing her head up and down, like an obedient toy. He pulled her up, his masked face tilting as he examined the saliva dripping down her chin.

“Hello, Le—”

Her words were silenced by his cock, both hands on the back of her head, his hips thrusting upward in steady, rhythmic fashion.

“We can’t hear you, Essie,” Woods called out. “Try again, sweetheart.”

A stinging slap sent pain radiating on her ass. Owen spanked her again, making her cry out against Levi, the vibration of her voice making him groan, and that sent pleasure coursing through Essie.

She hadn’t had a single, coherent thought other than her mouth, Levi’s cock, and Owen’s hands as they rubbed her pussy over the crotch of her shorts. Levi got harder and harder in her mouth.

So much power in simply being wanted.

If she had time to think, she’d almost feel pathetic.

But Owen ripped the shorts down and she felt the latex tracing the outline of her labia, circling her entire pussy, squeezing the hood of her clit between his forefingers before letting go and moving in a firm, eager circle.

Then it was all interrupted by another sharp spank, this one higher up on her ass, and she could feel the radiating imprint of Owen’s entire hand.

She yelped, and out of the corner of one blurry eye, saw Levi tilt his head upward in ecstasy.

“Hello, Levi,” she said around his cock. It came out muffled and wet, but the friction of her teeth grazing him was almost too much for him to handle, because his hands tightened around her head and he slammed his cock to the hilt. He held her there for an entire second before releasing her—gasping, fresh spit coating his thighs, tears streaking her mascara.

“Do that again,” Levi said. His voice was surprisingly soft and quiet, as if he were a man who didn’t need to talk much. The way his arms bulged against his T-shirt, and the way the cords stood out in his neck, Essie assumed he probably didn’t need to.

Essie was discovering a new aspect of herself; a thirst to prove herself. To show that she could keep up with these men. She wasn’t going to be a mewling housewife who came twice and fell asleep. She wanted to see them moan; to fall apart with what she could do to them, to get jealous of each other when she devoted all her attention to one of them.

She rolled slightly onto her right shoulder, Levi steadying her on his giant knees. “Untie me and I might,” she said sweetly.

Quietly, from the front seat, with great sincerity and a touch of malice, Woods said, “You don’t make the rules, Essie. We do.”

Owen slid his finger entirely inside of her and began pumping it in and out, pausing after every four or so thrusts to tease her asshole with his thumb.

Levi took back control of her mouth, this time slapping her face lightly with his hand, the head of his cock stuffed into the side of her check. “Say hello again,” he demanded.

“Hello—” She gasped. “Levi.”

“Good girl. I like it when you use a little teeth.”

The van hit a bump and he slipped out of her mouth, the shaft bouncing against her lips. He took the opportunity to guide her to his balls, where she began licking and sucking, pulling on the flesh with her mouth, using her teeth to drag lightly against his skin.

By his gasps and the way his fingers were digging into her, Levi was enjoying her.

“I might keep you right here for the rest of the ride,” he remarked. “This mouth, right here.”

She tried again to get him to break. “Really? I thought you’d be fucking me by now.”

Woods hit the brakes—hard—the entire van coming to a jolting halt. Everyone in the back slid forward, Levi reaching and failing to grab the driver's seat headrest. Owen slid to the ground, his shoulders slamming into Levi’s ribs, sending them both into a tangled heap against the back of Woods’ seat.

Essie, bound and helpless, was flung from their laps and landed with a thud on the hard rubber-matted floor. She landed on her stomach, the wind knocked out of her.

“Sorry,” Woods said cheerfully. “Thought I could beat the red.” She had fallen close to the open space between the front two seats. Her chin rested near the gearshift in the floor. Woods had one wrist hanging loosely over the steering wheel, the other hand absentmindedly caressing the knob of the shifter. The other guys were busy untangling themselves and adjusting their masks.

“Are you okay?” Woods asked, looking under his right arm like she was a cup in his cup holder. His mask was smaller than the others. They all wore the white masks, but his clung to the angles in his face, the eyeholes clear, revealing his glittering green gaze. It gave him a pensive, owlish appearance.

She grunted. “I didn’t check the box for ‘car accident.’”

The mask shifted. She could tell he was smiling. “You didn’t say you were going to be a brat either. Or dress that fucking slutty.”

“Can’t a girl dress like she’s asking for it?”

“Sweetheart, you were begging for it in those shorts. Did your husband plead with you not to leave in them?”

The words struck her like a slap in the face. The emotional turmoil was close to the surface, no matter how much adrenaline and sexual excitement she tried to hide in.

Woods observed her. He reached down to stroke her hair. “We’ll take care of you Essie. Don’t worry.” He reached up and adjusted his rearview mirror. “Levi?”

“Yeah?”

“We have about five minutes until we’re at our destination. Do you think you can fill our slut with cum by that time?”

Levi answered by climbing onto her, pinning the back of her thighs against his meaty legs. A viselike hand clamped down on her shoulder while she felt latex fingers spreading her pussy open and guiding his cock in.

She gasped. Woods’ hand snatched her ponytail and arced her neck so she was looking upward. “I like that noise,” he said quietly. “I love hearing you take it.” He kept one hand on the steering wheel, one on her as she laid trapped between the front seats.

Levi began pounding her, his hips slamming against her ass, the rubber flooring pulling at the skin on her stomach. Her shoulders ached from the restraints; she had a bruise she could feel forming on her knee. Spit and sweat coated her neck.

It felt so good being dirty.

Being used.

The first orgasm wasn’t even one of pleasure; it was escapism, excitement—the fact that her life suddenly felt different, like she was erasing a whiteboard and feeling the satisfaction of the dark marks fading with each pass of the eraser.

Levi grunted in her ear. Told her how tight she was. How sexy she was. How he wanted to spank her ass and cum in her mouth. How much she turned him on.

Woods held her up for the rest of the drive—looking down to watch her moan, gazing at her half-closed eyes.

At one of the stoplights, he began rubbing the front of his jeans while he looked at her.

She had time to wonder what his cock looked like when Levi climbed off her and told Owen to take a turn.

Woods laughed and said he’d take the scenic route.