This is a continuation from ‘Forced to Beg’ and I’ve included part I for those who missed the previous blog post. Today’s theme, as you can see from the piccie above, is stockings. Yummy! Shmexy reading everyone!
There was an audible click and the sound of a ratchet being fastened. Lucile spun around to discover that her wrist was now encircled in thick, cold steel.
“Unfasten that this instant, you despicable creature!”
Her order went unheeded. Instead, a large grin formed on her captor’s face as he fastened the other steel bracelet around his own wrist. “There’s to be no unfastening this side of tomorrow, darlin.’
Her jaw went slack in disbelief, before she recovered herself and her perfect white teeth which she then slammed together. She tugged futilely against the cuff. “You cannot keep me in this against my will,” she spat and her emerald green eyes sparked with fire in indignant fury.
“Oh, it won’t be against your will, sweet pea. I’ll make sure of that.” Chase winked at her and drew his hand down his cleanly shaven jaw, trying to stifle his smile but failing miserably in his task.
I demand you tell me where the key to these… infernal things are, right this instant,” Lucile demanded, in the most prim-and-proper voice she could manage. Standing up to look him square in the eye, she felt almost dwarfed as he straightened his posture and purposefully looked down upon her.
“Keys are in my pocket, princess, but I won’t tell you which one because that would spoil all the fun.” Chase winked one of his cobalt-blue eyes at her and leaned back against the wall.
“You needn’t think I’m falling for that,” she retorted, her eyes narrowing into thin slits.
“You don’t want to play my game, huh? Fancy that,” he said absently to himself. “Well, I guess in that case we can head straight for the bedroom and get down to the good stuff right away.”
Lucile gasped. “I am not going anywhere with you! If you think for even one low down rotten second that I’d willingly…” but her words were lost in a whoosh of air as he easily hoisted her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder with his free arm fondling her backside for good measure.
“Get off me, right this instant!” Lucile was horrified at having been so easily manhandled but her words hadn’t the slightest effect. Chase was already speeding off through the door, out to the hallway and when his feet began to quickly ascend the wooden staircase in front of him, she felt her heart rate rocket out of control. This could not be happening. Not here. Not with him.
“You promised me something a long time ago, Lucile. I’m a patient man but eventually you have to pay up.” He rattled the handcuff that contained both their wrists. “You’re not leaving this house until I get what I’m owed.” He smacked her backside to send the point home.
“I can’t… I didn’t mean… you wouldn’t…” Her voice came out in a breathy whisper. Her heart was trying to hammer its way outside her chest and she could simply not believe what was happening. The worst thing was that her body was already responding to his. She was wet. Oh God. If he meant what he said, he’d discover in seconds what she’d tried to so many damn years to hide. She tried desperately to think. It wasn’t easy with his hand stroking her backside. Think, dammit, think! Her brain was a mess, hormones interfering with sensible thought process. She needed to calm down. Take deep breaths. He’d need a few minutes to find the right room, so she had a moment or two to concentrate.
Chase got to the top of the stairs without a single laboured breath and took the second door on the right. “Bingo!”
Lucile swore. So much for luck. She needed more me. A few precious seconds to gather her thoughts together and form an escape plan. Her bed loomed into view. Red satin sheets, a soft down comforter and… Oh God. There on her bed were the stockings, suspenders and bra set that she’d bought this morning as a birthday present for Rachael. She’d left them there to remind herself to wrap them up. Chase’s eyes settled on them and the expression on his face was as if all his birthday’s had suddenly come at once.
“Well, well, what have we here?” Without further preamble, he threw Lucile down on the bed and straddled her hips. Picking up the packet of lacy stockings with his free hand, he smiled lasciviously at her. “I think you might need to wear these for me, darling.’ His eyes had turned a stormy grey and there was no mistaking the lust that swum around in their depths. Lucile struggled under the tight grip of his thick, muscled thighs but there was no moving the man. Think woman, think! He angled his body down upon hers and it was clear he was intending to kiss her. Oh, yes please. She shook her head from side to side as if that might clear the miasma of desire that had begun to form over her retinas. The room was going dim, Chase’s head was swooping down and her lips pouted of their own accord.
Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, she snapped herself out of the foolishness that had descended and did the only thing she could think of. She lunged for his neck and bit him, while her hand dived into the top pocket of his shirt and hoped to hell it would find a key.
“Goddamn,” Chase roared, slapping his hand to his neck to see what damage had been wrought. When he pulled his hand away, there was no blood but he could feel a pair of decent sized bite marks imprinted upon his skin. Great. They would leave a wonderful bruise by tomorrow morning and he’d have to wear his shirt collars up for the rest of the week, which would make him look like a jerk. If some enterprising lackey managed to get a look at the bite, he’d be the butt of office jokes for the next decade at least, so he’d have to cover them up with something. Women!
Watching her fumble about in his blue and yellow checked shirt, desperately searching for the handcuff key, he managed to have the last laugh. “Fraid not, sweat pea. You’ll have to look lower.” He eyed his crotch and the look in his eyes turned from murderous to devilish. Let Miss Goody-two-shoes go there and fumble around…
“Let. Me. Go.” Lucile’s words were clipped and her voice was breathless. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the abrupt landing on her bed or the close proximity of Chase’s body to hers. She suspected it was the latter.
“Why? So you can bite me again. I don’t think so.”
Chase voice had taken on a ragged quality and Lucile wondered if he was affected in the same way as her. He’d always made his interest in her body quite clear, but he also made it obvious that that was his only pursuit. The man had a closet full of women and the doors were always banging. He had never had a serious relationship to her knowledge, and much of the town’s female distress.
“I won’t bite you.” That much was true but she was certainly up for kicking, scratching and hitting, as he’d find out when he finally got his bulk off her body. He was beginning to squeeze all the air out of her.
“You’re damned right you won’t.” Without moving his heavy weight from her, Chase pulled the handcuff key out of his left jeans pocket and unfastened the ratchet. He smiled at her. Then, quick as a flash, he released his hand and refastened hers. Snapping the other cuff onto on the beautifully ornate cast-iron headboard that framed her bed, he laughed out loud at her shocked expression. “Since when have I ever let you go so easily?” He kissed the tiny key and replaced it in his pocket, knowing full well that it would be a cold day in hell before she reached for it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucile rattled her newly fastened cuff against her bedframe and howled in anger.
“None too bright, are you?” Chase grinned as he tore open the packet of lacy black underwear and began to peruse the contents at his leisure.
“They’re not for me. You put those back!” Lucile was trying to slip her small wrist through the narrow opening of the handcuff, squeezing it into all kinds of imaginative shapes, but he was familiar with the workings of handcuffs and knew exactly how tight to close them.
“Don’t even bother. The only way you’re getting out of that thing is by either a) sawing your hand off, or by b) reaching into my pocket and fondling my cock.” He laughed at her shocked expression. After those words, he knew she would rather end up tied to her bed for an eternity than to avail herself of the second option.
“Right, here’s how this goes,” he continued, “you are going to wear these pretty little wisps of lace for me. You’re going to roll them slowly up your legs and you’re going to look like you’re enjoying yourself.” He licked his lips and gave her a carnal look that dripped with hunger.
“Make me.” She rolled her head to the side of the bed to escape his gaze and the blush that was steadily creeping up her face. Feeling the hot flush infuse her cheeks, she wanted to roll up and die, knowing he would miss nothing.
“Oh me, oh my. You blushing for me, Miss Lucile?” His fingertips expertly caught her face and centred her head on the pillow once more. “As to the ‘make me,’ I’ll happily pull off my belt and give you that spanking I promised all those many years ago. It’s been long overdue, hasn’t it, Peaches?” He began to unfasten the shiny bright silver buckle at his waist, that housed a thick, brown leather belt and as he slid the leather through the waist straps of his jeans, his look of deadly intent must have made itself clear to her.
“Why? Why now?” Lucile’s hand flailed helplessly at his chest in a pathetic attempt to remove her tormentor.
“I don’t need a reason, darling,’ as well you know. Now, what’s it to be? A spanking or a glimpse of thigh?” He raised his eyebrow provocatively.
Snatching the offending packet from his hands and cursing under her breath, she decided that in the time it took her two roll a pair of stockings up her legs, there might be the possibility that some form of escape would make itself known to her. She also had the ridiculous desire to torment him. To see his eyes flare in heat and fill with desire, to watch him suffer as she had suffered for countless years in presence. There was a little beast inside her who was almost looking forward to this and it scared her. Unfortunately, not enough to make her stop this mad pursuit, and as her hands slowly, unfurled the fine, black nylon she found herself shaking. What was she doing? It wasn’t that she was scared of him. She dreamt of being taken by this man since before the dawn of time. It was an adrenaline overload. Her body was in melt-down mode and it was an all out war between her brains and her hormones. Her hormones were winning. Curling her red painted toenails up towards her face, she began to unfold the sheer material over her satiny, smooth legs.