and splash some water on himself; he returned a few moments later, with more rope, binding my ankles together and lying on the bed beside me.
“Don’t you trust me?” I asked.
“Would you?” he said, a spark of humor in his eyes that I had never seen before.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll give you that.”
His smile had an impish quality that was also strange to me. It seemed like he was enjoying having me like this, helpless and at his mercy, in a way that he hadn’t been expecting. But he welcomed it all the same, and hell, so did I. My husband had never made me feel like this. No man had.
We slept together on the cot, curled up like lovers.
The next day came and went, and still my husband hadn’t come for me. The driver still kept me tied up most of the time, but he was at least giving me real food now, jerky and cheese and crusty bread. That night he tied me up securely and laid beside me again, but I could feel the hard insistent press of his dick against my ass.
“You want me,” I said. A statement, not a question.
“Of course,” he said.
“What do you want?”
He seemed to consider this for a while.
“Suck my cock,” he said, finally, getting to his feet and standing at the edge of the bed.
I maneuvered myself into a seated position as he pulled his dick out of his jeans. It was the first time I’d gotten a good look at it; it was as big as it had felt in my pussy and ass, long and stiff, and as he pushed it towards me I opened my mouth as far as I could and swallowed him down. He guided himself in, his other hand coming around to grip my hair. I moaned around the mouthful of his cock as he held my head steady, fucking my mouth, his cock hitting my back of my throat with every thrust. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and I could hardly breathe, but I loved every second of it, being helpless in this man’s hands.
Before long his breathing grew almost as harsh as mine, and I knew he couldn’t last. Saliva leaked from my mouth as I kept it slack for him, my tongue caressing the head of his cock every time it passed. My jaw was beginning to hurt, and I felt lightheaded, when he mustered a few more sloppy thrusts and filled my mouth with long hot spurts of jizz. I swallowed obediently, licking him clean as he withdrew.
I swore I could see fondness in his eyes as he touched the side of my face. But I’ve been wrong before.
After that, he lay down beside me and told me about the job he’d gone on with my husband. How he’d been promised a share, how my husband had turned on him, tried to kill him, and failed. He needed the money — for what, he wouldn’t say. But I could tell from the sad haunted look on his face that the cash wasn’t for him — not really. Maybe he had kids somewhere, or a friend who needed help. I didn’t want to ask him. I didn’t feel that it was my place.
That night, as I lay awake next to him, I tried to imagine my husband bursting into the room, guns blazing. I tried to imagine myself going with him, going back to our home, and I couldn’t quite picture it. Instead, when I pictured my immediate future, I saw myself and the driver going back there together, with an aim to steal back what was rightfully his. And after he took his share, and then some, I would taunt my husband just like I’d dreamed. I’d remind him of everything he was missing, everything he’d chosen to ignore.
And the driver and I would leave together, for Spain, or Australia, or Japan. Some place where we could have a life together.
Some place where he would never find us.
Tamed by the Driver
The beast leaned down and nuzzled her breasts through the fabric of her dress, until she shivered and grabbed the fur on the sides of his head. He plucked hesitantly at the laces of her dress, his claws ill-equipped to unlace them properly. But when she sighed and arched encouragingly up towards him, he growled softly and ripped it open, just like in her dream.
As her dress fell away, she stretched out on the bed like a virgin sacrifice, feeling reckless and wanton. Her feelings for this beast didn’t make sense, and she didn’t want them to — she just wanted to feel him, wanted him to plant his seed inside of her. She pulled herself upright and reached out towards his hardening member, wanting to feel it twitch and grow in her hand. She could hardly get her fist around it, but she tried, relishing the soft noises he made as she stroked it clumsily. It was hot and stiff, and the head of it swelled a little as she watched.
On impulse, she leaned forward and lapped at it with her tongue, as he had done to her. He let out a shaky groan. He tasted musky, earthy, like something just picked out of the garden
Below his rod, a large sac hung low and heavy, like a prize stallion. Beauty reached down and cupped one of his balls in her hand, as well as she could, squeezing ever so gently. His claws flexed.
“Lie down,” he rumbled, and Beauty obeyed, collapsing back onto the mattress. He took hold of her legs, one in each hand, pushing them upwards so that her knees were slightly bent and her sex was completely exposed and open to him.
“This will hurt,” he said.
Beauty nodded and closed her eyes.
