rolls of tape, and boxes of bondage toys. All because he had finally ventured into a fetish club several weeks before. By a chance meeting he'd made a contact to buy a slave. He'd met with the guy earlier that day and made arrangements to view the merchandise later that same evening.
Once he had his slave, he intended to break up with Sharae. Miss Prim and Proper Sharae would never understand his desires. She'd probably burst into hysterical tears at the sight of a pair of handcuffs. No, Sharae would never be his bondage pet.
As he mused, his gaze came upon an old framed photograph on the fireplace mantle. It was a group shot of his brother and sister-in-law, and Joe with his ex-girlfriend, Angela Carlisle. Since breaking up at Club 27 long ago, he hadn't seen Angela at all, and wondered idly where she was hiding herself these days. Sometimes he missed the spunky redhead, more often than he would admit.
The phone rang and Joe sighed as he picked it up. “What?'
The female voice on the other end laughed. “Nice talking to you, too, Joe.'
He sighed. It was his slutty sister-in-law, Megan, who always flirted with Joe behind her husband's back. She made no secret of the fact she wanted him. And Joe wouldn't mind taking her up on it but didn't out of respect for his brother, Jon. “How are you, Megan?'
“Fine. Wanna come over? I'm naked,” she purred.
“Better put some clothes on. You might catch a chill.'
She sighed heavily. He could just imagine her face. “Anyway, Jon wants you to come over tonight. Something about that football crap you guys watch. Bring Sharae so we can gossip about you guys.'
“Sorry, but we're both busy. Gotta go,” he snapped. He hung up before she could say another word. He wouldn't mind tying Megan up tight and shipping her off to Antarctica. His brother would be better off without her.
When Melissa saw Preston and Angel, her heart seemed to stop beating. Preston held a gun, trained on her forehead. The fury in his eyes was scary. It didn't help that there was a bloody film over his left eye, making his glare seem deathly. She shuddered as she realized she had been the one to inflict those wounds on both of them.
The next 15 minutes seemed a blur. Angel charged and slapped her so hard, she spun around. Melissa didn't know if Preston would actually use that gun, but she had no intention of finding out. She took the slap and several more from the surprisingly strong slave girl. Sharae cowered in the corner.
Angel bound Melissa's arms behind her back. It was only then that Preston approached her. He grabbed her by the hair. “I have to admit, I underestimated your resourcefulness,” he snarled. “I won't make that mistake again. Fortunately, you forgot to secure my girl. She roused herself, and came to my aid.” He smiled at Angel. Apparently all was forgiven as far as she was concerned.
In quick succession, Melissa's sight was taken away with a thickly padded leather blindfold and her mouth filled with another huge, jaw-stretching ball-gag. She was led roughly back through the house. From the moans she heard, she knew Sharae was getting similar treatment.
They forced her to sit on what felt like a high barstool. Ropes and straps quickly tightened all over her body. Her left leg was bent back and tied to one of the legs of the stool. Her right leg was pulled straight out, lifted high, and somehow strapped in place. Then her arms were pulled straight back and upward, forcing her to bend over.
More ropes circled her waist and thighs, securing her to the stool. She groaned as the now familiar bite of clamps dug into her hardened nipples. To top it all off, a vibrator was shoved into her cunt and held in place by more tight ropes. She waited for them to turn the vibrator on, but they didn't.
At last, they seemed to be done binding her. She sat uncomfortably stretched, moaning softly. Her moans were matched by those of Sharae, no doubt bound in a similar awkward position. In the total blackness of the blindfold, she could “feel” her tormentors standing close by, watching her. It seemed as if they were waiting for something.
She tried to shift her weight to find a more comfortable position. As she did, she pulled her outstretched leg down sharply. Immediately, she heard a squeal from Sharae, and along with the squeal, the vibrator suddenly switched on, buzzing furiously inside her.
Sensing something was wrong, Melissa sat perfectly still again. She could hear Preston chuckling and Angel giggling. As she settled down, the vibrator turned off.
She heard Angel's voice. “Shall I tell them, Master?'
“Sure,” he said. “But nothing specific. Let them figure out the connections themselves.'
Still giggling, Angel addressed the bound women. “You two are connected,” she laughed. “When one of you moves, it… does something to the other.'
As if to demonstrate the point, Melissa heard Sharae grunt and shift. The result was a hard tug at her own nipple clamps. Melissa groaned and pulled her arms down instinctively. As she did, she heard the buzzing of another vibrator and the muffled complaint of her companion.
So that's their game, thought Melissa. We punish each other whenever we move. And we can't help moving because of the torturous bondage they've put us in!
CHAPTER 14
With the captives administering their own torment, Preston turned his attention to his own sore head, as well as Angel's. The shoe Melissa struck them with hadn't done much damage, and the cuts were quickly bandaged. After downing some extra-strength Tylenol, they both headed back to enjoy the show.
Preston watched intently as the two women struggled. The sights and sounds of helplessly bound women never failed to stimulate him-the pitiful whimpers and pleas from gagged lips, the spasm of strained muscles against constricting cords.
The show was good, but not good enough. Sharae and Melissa managed to establish an equilibrium in their mutual torture. They needed incentive to resume their writhing.
Looking about the room, he spotted what he was looking for, tapped Angel on the shoulder, and pointed. He pressed his finger against his lips to signal her to move quietly. Angel nodded, stifling a giggle.
For Sharae, the last few minutes had been a rush of conflicting sensations. She'd never associated pain or confinement with arousal, but there was no denying her current predicament both frightened and excited her. The pressure of the clamps not only gave her nipples a constant, throbbing ache, it also kept her warm and moist elsewhere. The shock of the vibrator switching on and off made her wrench uncontrollably against her restraints. The merciless teasing forced her to focus on the release that was always just beyond reach.
If she were alone, Sharae thought she might actually experiment with the sensations, to see if she could get them to take her over the edge. But she sensed her partner in bondage was not so inclined. After a few minutes, they both found positions where they could sit in reasonable comfort.
But the comfort was short lived. She heard a snicker that sounded like Angel trying stifle a laugh. With her sight gone, Sharae found her other senses heightened just like she'd heard of blind people. She was certain she could hear Preston's breathing. He was trying to control it, but she could hear the arousal in each faint hiss of air. She knew he was getting off on this.
She heard quiet footsteps, followed by the sounds of someone rummaging through items. More soft footsteps. She sensed Angel standing close by and Sharae knew what was happening. They wanted their captives to struggle, and were going to make it happen. She pictured Angel wielding a whip, and braced herself for the expected blow. Instead of the sting of the whip, Sharae found herself squealing at the soft touch of a feather against her bare sole. The effect was the same. She jerked her leg, pulling at the ropes attached to Melissa, who groaned loudly in complaint. Then it was Melissa's turn to be tickled, and Sharae felt the vibrator turn on to tease her again, only to switch off all too quickly.
Angel moved from one captive to the other, touching them lightly with the feather. Now openly laughing at their plight, the slavegirl tested every exposed corner of their helpless bodies. She found sensitive spots under their arms and behind their knees, on their bellies and necks.
