much of the floor space. A wrought iron wine table had
been repurposed to hold a collection of floggers instead of stemware and
paddles instead of wine bottles, with two black woven baskets hiding their
contents from view inside the base cupboard of the unit. And a number of heavy
eyebolts had been screwed into the wall and ceiling. Some had chains dangling
from them, while others were bare.
“I feel like I’ve stepped back in time,” she whispered.
“To a time when a man was truly the lord of his castle, and
had the power to enforce his desires?”
She nodded, her legs beginning to tremble. “You said you
were interested in scene play. What scenes play out in here?”
He stepped up behind her, hands wrapping loosely around her
waist to pull her against him. His masked cheek rested against her hair.
“What scenes would you like to play?”
“I don’t know. I told you, I’d only ever done a little
bondage before. And that was straightforward, let’s-tie-you-to-the-bedposts
sex.”
“Then perhaps you are a lovely Victorian maid, innocently
sailing to Spain, when your ship is attacked by pirates. The pirate captain is
captivated by your beauty.” Rikard reached up and stroked her cheek with the
back of one gloved finger. “And so, rather than killing you, he takes you back
to his hideout. He will spare your life, if you can convince him that it is
worth his while to keep you as a slave. A slave to service all of his sexual
needs.”
She shivered, leaning against Rikard’s warmth. In his black
mask, laced leather pants and poet shirt, he looked like a pirate. Her
imagination ran wild, inspired by his words, until she smelled the cordite, and
squinted against the fog of gunsmoke that blurred her vision. Distantly, she
heard the cries of men fighting and dying.
“And if I am unable to convince you, Captain?”
“Then I will give you to my men. They deserve a treat.” He
trailed his finger between her breasts, down to her pussy. “I’m afraid you
wouldn’t survive the experience.”
Fear flushed her body, even though she knew Rikard was not a
pirate, that there was no crew waiting to ravish her to death if she failed to
satisfy him. Her heart pounded, and her palms sweated, as if the scene he’d
described was real.
He stroked her cheek again, turning her face so that he
could read her expression.
“So, my sweet pirate prize. Do you want to play?”
“Yes, Master Rikard. I want to play.”
“Pirate booty does not wear clothing. Take it off.”
He released her, stepping back so that he was out of her
way. Quickly, Gayle pulled off the clinging top, then unzipped the leather
skirt and stepped out of it. She dropped her clothing to the floor, and stood
naked before Rikard.
His blue eyes gleamed within his mask as he approached her.
Softly, slowly, he reached out and glided his gloved fingers over her
shoulders, down her arms, around her breasts, across her nipples, down her
stomach, over her hips, and around her ass. Closing her eyes, she tilted her
head back and sighed with pleasure.
Something warm and wet touched her shoulder, and her eyes
flew open. Rikard was kissing her, with a gentle openmouthed kiss that was
barely firmer than a breath. He licked her shoulder, then traced the line of
her muscles and vein with his tongue, placing another soft kiss in the hollow
of her neck.
“From now until the end of the scene, you will address me as
Captain. If you need to stop the scene for any reason, refer to me as Master
Rikard.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“The first thing I must do is make sure you can’t jump ship
and try to swim to safety.” He opened the wine cabinet and dug in one of the
baskets. Triumphantly, he turned to her holding a pair of black leather wrist
restraints and a rough length of hemp rope.
“Turn around, and put your hands behind your back.”
Quivering, Gayle did as he instructed. She was giving him
her trust and belief in addition to her obedience. With her hands bound
been repurposed to hold a collection of floggers instead of stemware and
paddles instead of wine bottles, with two black woven baskets hiding their
contents from view inside the base cupboard of the unit. And a number of heavy
eyebolts had been screwed into the wall and ceiling. Some had chains dangling
from them, while others were bare.
“I feel like I’ve stepped back in time,” she whispered.
“To a time when a man was truly the lord of his castle, and
had the power to enforce his desires?”
She nodded, her legs beginning to tremble. “You said you
were interested in scene play. What scenes play out in here?”
He stepped up behind her, hands wrapping loosely around her
waist to pull her against him. His masked cheek rested against her hair.
“What scenes would you like to play?”
“I don’t know. I told you, I’d only ever done a little
bondage before. And that was straightforward, let’s-tie-you-to-the-bedposts
sex.”
“Then perhaps you are a lovely Victorian maid, innocently
sailing to Spain, when your ship is attacked by pirates. The pirate captain is
captivated by your beauty.” Rikard reached up and stroked her cheek with the
back of one gloved finger. “And so, rather than killing you, he takes you back
to his hideout. He will spare your life, if you can convince him that it is
worth his while to keep you as a slave. A slave to service all of his sexual
needs.”
She shivered, leaning against Rikard’s warmth. In his black
mask, laced leather pants and poet shirt, he looked like a pirate. Her
imagination ran wild, inspired by his words, until she smelled the cordite, and
squinted against the fog of gunsmoke that blurred her vision. Distantly, she
heard the cries of men fighting and dying.
“And if I am unable to convince you, Captain?”
“Then I will give you to my men. They deserve a treat.” He
trailed his finger between her breasts, down to her pussy. “I’m afraid you
wouldn’t survive the experience.”
Fear flushed her body, even though she knew Rikard was not a
pirate, that there was no crew waiting to ravish her to death if she failed to
satisfy him. Her heart pounded, and her palms sweated, as if the scene he’d
described was real.
He stroked her cheek again, turning her face so that he
could read her expression.
“So, my sweet pirate prize. Do you want to play?”
“Yes, Master Rikard. I want to play.”
“Pirate booty does not wear clothing. Take it off.”
He released her, stepping back so that he was out of her
way. Quickly, Gayle pulled off the clinging top, then unzipped the leather
skirt and stepped out of it. She dropped her clothing to the floor, and stood
naked before Rikard.
His blue eyes gleamed within his mask as he approached her.
Softly, slowly, he reached out and glided his gloved fingers over her
shoulders, down her arms, around her breasts, across her nipples, down her
stomach, over her hips, and around her ass. Closing her eyes, she tilted her
head back and sighed with pleasure.
Something warm and wet touched her shoulder, and her eyes
flew open. Rikard was kissing her, with a gentle openmouthed kiss that was
barely firmer than a breath. He licked her shoulder, then traced the line of
her muscles and vein with his tongue, placing another soft kiss in the hollow
of her neck.
“From now until the end of the scene, you will address me as
Captain. If you need to stop the scene for any reason, refer to me as Master
Rikard.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“The first thing I must do is make sure you can’t jump ship
and try to swim to safety.” He opened the wine cabinet and dug in one of the
baskets. Triumphantly, he turned to her holding a pair of black leather wrist
restraints and a rough length of hemp rope.
“Turn around, and put your hands behind your back.”
Quivering, Gayle did as he instructed. She was giving him
her trust and belief in addition to her obedience. With her hands bound
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