Chapter 7 #2
I pulled the knotted leash loose from the faucet and pointed down. “Kneel.”
Once kneeling, she shifted, as if uncomfortable, then whispered, “It hurts my knees.”
“Do I care?” She wasn’t about to die…probably. I dropped the leash and stood on the end of it, unraveled some of the plastic from the roll. “Don’t move unless I tell you to move.”
I felt like Michelangelo with a chisel.
Using the plastic, I bound her wrists at her back, then tied her ankles. Then I began to sculpt. While I was doing it, I cursed myself for not finding rope or a pair of cuffs. The plastic wouldn’t immobilize her for long if she struggled too much.
“What are you doing?”
I eyed her and kept going.
“Hey. Not so tight, please?”
She kept protesting and squeaking. At some stage I balled up a dishcloth and gagged her with it. Mouthy girl.
The entire roll of wrap ended up being used.
Mummification did look good when it was see-through. I plucked the dishcloth from her mouth. She spluttered, glared.
“Take a deep beath.”
Swiftly, I put the last few turns about her face, then I stepped away, slowly, admiring the result on this kneeling girl.
The plastic squashed her tits and her face, her nose, flattened her lips and blindfolded her, pinned her arms to her sides.
It was dreadful, and degrading, and perfect.
The darkness of her areolas and the smudge of her lips looked startling.
Count to twenty then punch a hole for her to breathe?
Her muffled whining made the plastic suck into her nose and onto her teeth. She wriggled and almost fell onto her side, but I nudged her back into place with my foot.
“Shhh. You’ll just use up more oxygen.”
I started counting.
“One.”
“Two.”
Going slowly made this more fun, because I could watch her do all that wriggling. The buzz of power swept through me, through to my balls, and brought her into tight focus.
Cute squirmy victim.
Life and death. Yin and yang. Everyone needed air, and here was I controlling her access to it.
“Twenty.” I moved in and hooked my finger into the plastic over her mouth, wormed it in through the layers. As soon as I tore through, she rasped in an agonized, hiccupping lungful. “It wasn’t that long,” I chastised. “The average girl can last a whole minute.”
More carefully, I tore a hole for her nose, then checked she could breathe there by covering her mouth. She could. Her chest heaved up and down, and she rocked now and then, moaned in distress. But she said nothing.
Nothing. I guess she liked it.
With her eyelids jammed shut by the wrap, she seemed to have also been made mute.
Lightly, I caressed her lips with my forefinger then her tongue tip when she cautiously advanced it.
I gave her a soft kiss and was surprised when she moved her mouth beneath mine and breathed a little faster, and then, when I prolonged the kiss… subtly arched her back.
God, this chick was twisted as fuck.
Time was wasting. If I knew Grayson, he’d be watching that bedroom camera and be on his way here.
I paced around her once, listening to her whimpers—it wasn’t as if she was restricted from breathing.
The chest wrapping wasn’t that tight. I squatted and tore holes to free her tits, pulled them out, arranged them.
I gave them a few pinches around the nipples to make her skin redden.
Even better. I rose, slowly, admiring my artwork.
“Good girl,” I muttered. “Jesus fuck, this is hot.” I took out my phone, snapped a few quick pics, then unzipped and cradled my erection. I let it throb in my hand for a few seconds, savoring this.
Then I stepped in, quietly, spread my legs and partly squatted to get lower. I used either side of her head to position her mouth. The huff of air as she breathed was vexing and warm, made my dick twitch. It wanted in. Fuck, so did I.
I smiled at my own frustration then pushed my dick to her mouth. She grimaced and kept her lips together.
“Open. Suck like a good girl, and I won’t pinch my finger and thumb over your nose.”
When I fed it in, her final spluttering whine, as I slid into that pre-wetted hole, buzzed over me like the best cock-ring.
Thick and hard as always, I barely fitted and made her mouth stretch into a huge O. I grunted and shoved deeper, felt the back of her throat. She could take it.
“That’s it. Suck it in, baby.”
Sweet, wet, hungry mouth, and her tongue flailed at me and seemed desperate to be anywhere but curled around me. She gagged and tried to throw her head about.
I pulled out, thrust back in, scraping on her teeth just enough to make this exquisite. The rhythm fell into place. I grunted and went faster. Next time, if I could convince G to let me have her again, I’d take it slow.
So, he had her for a week?
The rocking into her and the suction noises as I pulled out glued my gaze to her face, to her mouth. Her body moved back and forth as I face-fucked her. The plastic made sounds as it stuck to the floor and unstuck. I dribbled my focus down to her obscenely exposed tits.
Fascinated and in thrall to this plastic sex-doll abomination of my own creation, I thrust past her throat’s resistance and jetted into her.
In the last, heart-stuttering second, I extracted myself, pumped some into her mouth.
A few more spurts squeezed from me and splattered onto her plastic face, to dribble downward then drip onto her breasts.
I muttered, “Don’t fucking swallow. Yet.” I stood there staring at her while I listened to Grayson open and slam the front door and come sprinting.
“Just in time,” I murmured.
“You cunt,” he said.
“Swallow, now.”
For a few more seconds, I watched as she obeyed, then I turned and grinned as his footsteps halted behind me. His scowl was a thing of wonder.
“All yours. She may need a few repairs.”
“You fucking cunt.” He ran both hands over his head, tilted one concerned look at me, then at her. “Fuck. Fuck… Make sure she can breathe. Lie her down on her side so she won’t fall. Meet me outside.”
Uh-huh. I stared at his disappearing back. I thought I knew why he was upset.
I zipped up. Then I did as he asked: laid her on her side on the kitchen floor, rolled the plastic on her face upward so that it was only a strip over her eyes and ears, then went and found him.
He was sprawled on a sun lounge on the patio, dressed in dark jeans and buttoned gray shirt and boots.
A normal man engaged in staring at land he owned.
Beneath the surface Grayson was seething with a mystery I probably understood.
I could ask for clarification, but he was a friend, and I did not want to poke this monster.
Maybe I should have left her alone, not touched her? What a terrible waste that would have been.
The expanse of terracotta paving tiles and the serene landscape beyond was a punctuation mark to my obscenities. Back there in the house a girl lay on her side, defiled. Defiled beautifully, though.
It was a damned shame I’d been interrupted and couldn’t do more.
There was friendship, and there was business. I should have remembered which was which, and not be an ass with Grayson.
“Let me guess. Not really CNC?”
He blew out a breath. “You should leave and forget this.”
“That bad?”
“What did you tell her? Names? Mine or yours? Where the house is?”
Grayson didn’t know about my arrest three years ago. Even if I had been freed without charge, I had decided it was a part of me he didn’t need to see.
I’d had an inkling this was off. Had Grayson finally done something criminal?
“I told her my first name.” I frowned. “Nothing much else. She said it was CNC.”
“Go home. Forget about this. After a week, I’m done with her.”
“Huh.” The indecisive sound was my best answer, so far. He stared at me.
“Either leave, or I’m going to keep talking.”
That metaphorical devil was luring me again. The bastard. If only he would quit sitting on my shoulder.
Lack of knowledge and denial was what Grayson aimed for. If asked, I could say I didn’t have any clue this was illegal. That was his train of thought.
So this was a crime.
I had told her my name. I should walk away.
I rubbed my mouth, pressed the side of my finger between my teeth, elbow resting on my other hand while I pretended to think it through. “Okay.”
Everything was in my pocket, keys and so on. I hadn’t left anything in the house. Except for my come in her. After a week that would be surely gone? My DNA in his house would mean nothing anyway…
What was I thinking? Grayson was never going to kill her.
What was he doing?
“I get it, though. Don’t dig a hole for yourself.”
He nodded.
Or one for her.
“Damn though, she is hot, beautiful…perfect for training, or ruining. With both of us—” My brain went spinning off into kinky depravity, until I reined it in. “You sure it’s not CNC? Not fucking with me?”