Grabbing a pair of heavy-duty scissors, Preston snipped away the wrappings around her legs, as well as the string binding her toes. Her legs were covered in sweat and her incense suddenly filled the room. Hurriedly, he untied her crotchrope and removed the egg from her cunt, leaving the other where it was.
Angel lifted her hips, arching herself to him. Preston took two lengths of rope, tied one to each of her knees, then to the headboard, lifting her legs and exposing her even more.
Finally, he turned on the vibrator still within her ass, and positioned himself. Slowly, teasingly, he slipped just past the threshold of her eager pussy. As much as he wanted to plunge in, he needed to hear her beg more.
And beg she did. “Please don't tease me!” she cried, half muffled by the breathing tube. “Fuck me, Master. Fuck your bitch hard!'
He listened to her for a moment, then rammed himself in. Angel squealed in delight, shaking her head in abandon. He briefly wished he'd freed her head so he could see the look in her eyes. But soon, he closed his own eyes and began a steady rhythm of deep thrusts.
Exercising every ounce of control he had, he allowed himself to approach the edge of bliss again and again, only to pull back. His fingers played with his slave's tits, digging into the soft flesh. He felt himself building toward climax once more, and wished he could make the moment last forever. Grunting, shuddering, he finally came.
As he collapsed on top of Angel's spent body, he continued pumping as he slowly deflated. He ran his hand along the cocoon of tape that enveloped her body and suddenly wanted to touch her skin, look into her eyes, kiss her lips.
He untied her knees, found the scissors and cut the tape around her chest. When he came to her neck, he set the scissors down and began carefully peeling away the tape. Slowly, her features emerged from their dark prison. When her mouth was freed, she spit out the breathing tube.
“Thank you, Master. I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” he said. He licked her lips and kissed her. When the last piece of tape fell to the floor, he gazed into her eyes. They were moist and full of emotion. He kissed her again, then lay back and ran his hand along the length of her body.
“Mine,” he said simply.
“Yours,” she replied.
Soon, they were asleep in each other's arms.
A week later, Preston sat in his easy chair, watching as Angel tormented the newest acquisition's firm titties. The bleached blonde was tightly bound in a kneeling hogtie leaning against the wall.
The captive was whining pathetically into her ball-gag and struggling against the ropes. She glared at Preston then at Angel, her large blue eyes begging for mercy.
Preston chuckled and shook his head slightly. The bitch was to be the slave of some ancient business tycoon who wanted a young nubile blonde because his wife was too busy throwing tea parties for her friends. Typical customer.
At first he had thought the blonde resembled Sharae. But Sharae was one of a kind. Her hair was natural blonde, and those emerald green eyes that spit fiery glances at him as he trussed her… He had to admit Sharae got under his skin, the way nobody had since Angel. He became aroused as he thought of his Angel and Sharae making love.
But Sharae was long gone, sold to her ex-boyfriend to become his slave. Preston recalled the look of shock and betrayal in her eyes. She couldn't believe Joe would buy her as a slave.
The doorbell rang and Angel looked up at Preston. They weren't expecting company until the next day. Preston stood and nodded to Angel. She untied the ropes holding the girl up and carried her to the playroom.
With the blonde safely out of sight, Preston went to the door and opened it slowly. “What the fuck?!'
Sharae smiled shyly and held out a coil of rope. “This time I brought my own rope… Master.'
CHAPTER 21
Sharae Stevens watched the range of emotions flood over Preston's face. Shock, surprise, confusion, and a hint of pleasure in those dark eyes. However, he made no move to accept the rope from her. He stared at her as if he were trying to comprehend the situation.
She averted her gaze, trying to see around him and peer into the house for a sign of Angel. Preston shifted his body to block her roaming eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked.
Sharae flinched. This wasn't what she expected at all. Come to think of it, she didn't know what she expected. All she knew was that she wanted to be back under Preston's control. It had started the very day Preston had kidnapped her. The initial terror was something she never wanted to experience again, but later, when he tied her standing in front of the mirror, something seemed to click inside her. Maybe it was the feeling of total helplessness and vulnerability. Maybe it was Preston's bold look of lusty appraisal as he scrutinized her bound body. Maybe it was the hungry, horny expression on her own gagged face staring back at her from the mirror.
Whatever it was, it made her feel sexy and alive in a way she'd never felt before. She tried to deny her feelings, but they only grew more intense as she observed Angel in her servitude and the way Preston treated her. By the time Joe had shown up at the house to buy Melissa, Sharae had decided she didn't want to deny the feelings anymore. She actually wanted to stay with Preston, but he'd kept her gagged the entire evening, so she couldn't tell him. It was especially maddening because she was certain Preston wanted her too.
Then her week in Joe's house turned out to be a complete disaster. He was so bumbling and inept. His idea of being a Master entailed little more than being cruel and sadistic twenty-four hours a day. Though she'd come to realize how much she craved being controlled by a strong man, she quickly realized Joe was no Preston.
The thought of Preston snapped her back to reality. There he was, standing in the door, waiting impatiently for her to answer his question.
“Uh-” She was at a loss for words.
Suddenly his big burly hand grasped her firmly by the arm and he dragged her inside and slammed the door shut. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded as he pinned her none too gently against the wall.
“Uh-I–I w-wanted to, um, be w-with you,” she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.
The corner of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. “Say it again.'
“I wanted to-'
“No, no. What did you call me?” His eyes were searching her face. Sharae felt as if he could look into her soul with those eyes. She had never met any man so powerful and intense as Preston. She knew he was what she needed.
“Master,” she whispered.
His mouth was on hers at once, in a crushing kiss that threatened to take her breath away. She felt the rope slip from her fingers as he pulled her arms behind her. When their lips parted, Sharae discovered her wrists were bound tight behind her.
He smiled. “Welcome back, Slave Sharae.'
Sharae's whole body was tingling in anticipation, and the words “Slave Sharae” made her suddenly weak. Yes, she thought, this is what she wanted, where she belonged.
Joe Adams stared in disbelief at Sharae's empty room. He'd left her tied to her bed that morning, her hands lashed to the headboard and her feet to the footboard. The frayed ropes were still there, apparently severed by the steak knife lying nearby.
Anger boiled as he remembered the feast Sharae had prepared for him the night before. Steak and lobster-his favorite. She wanted to make up for being a brat the past week, but must have sneaked the knife out and hid it under her pillow.
“Dammit!” he hollered, his voice echoing through the house. He slammed the door and stomped into his bedroom, slamming that door as well.
“Mmmppff!” came a terrified cry from the naked bound woman on the bed. Melissa lay spread eagled, her limbs pulled taut to the corners. A large white ball-gag was buckled in her mouth. Her enormous bosom was bound
