Her Prisoner
A Twist Of Sadism
by Susan Strict
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2007 Susan Strict
Published by Strict Publishing International
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“I’m moving soon,” she said as they sipped the steaming mugs of coffee. “I’ve been offered a job in London, so I’ll have to live up there.”
Without thinking, he looked around the comfortable living room. “So you’ll be selling this?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll put it on the market, of course, but I need to move right away so I’ll be renting somewhere nearer to the new office until I have everything sorted out.”
“That will be expensive, won’t it? Can you afford it, or are they paying you a lot more to work up there?”
“One of my friends is going to rent this from me,” she told him. “You remember Eileen? She wants to move back into this area, and this will be ideal while she looks for somewhere to buy. So it’s perfect for both of us.”
He remembered Eileen although it was several years since he had last seen her. She was a completely contrast to Jenny, tall and dark to Jenny’s blonde and short. Also, Jenny was just a little on the chunky side, not fat, but with strong, solid legs only really noticeable when she wore fairly tight trousers - which she avoided doing most of the time. Although otherwise small, she was an imposing figure when she went to work, always dressing quite severely, usually in a black business suit with a longish skirt over black boots that had fairly high heels to make her appear taller. Sometimes she wore her hair tied back, and sometimes it hung long and loose, straight golden blonde halfway down her back and immediately attracting attention from some considerable distance away. To say that she made an impact wherever she went would be a gross understatement.
Right now she was the complete opposite. She had changed from her work clothes when she came home, long before he arrived. She wore a short, loose, pale-blue skirt and a T-shirt with a wide neck exposing most of her shoulders and a fair bit of her chest. Her hair was loose and just a little dishevelled, quite unlike her usual sleek appearance when she was working. With her legs up on the sofa and nothing on her feet, she looked no more than an innocent young girl.
“I’ll miss this place,” he said.
“I’ll miss it too,” she replied a little sadly, “And I’ll miss having coffee with you after work.”
He smiled. “It’s been nice,” he said. “It brightens my day.”
“I know,” she said, smiling back at him. “I can tell that from the way you look at me.”
There was something in her voice that made him feel uncomfortable, as if he ought to apologise.
“Sorry,” he said, not quite sure why he said it.
“That’s OK,” she told him, “I know you’ve always wanted to go to bed with me. It’s obvious.”
He felt himself blushing. She was so much younger than he was that somehow it did not seem right. “You’re a very attractive woman,” he admitted, “But I didn’t mean to...”
His voice tailed off, but she was still smiling at him.
“It’s fine,” she said, “And now that I’m going to be up in London from tomorrow onwards, it would be such a pity if we never had been to bed together, wouldn’t it?”
He stared, open-mouthed at her.
“Close your mouth,” she said curtly, standing up and smoothing down her skirt. “Come on. I’ve always fancied doing the dominatrix thing, and you’d look great tied to my bed!”
“What!”
“Oh come on,” she said impatiently. “This is probably the last chance we’ll ever have. You’re not telling me you don’t want to?”
“I... “ Hesitantly he stood up. “You want to tie me to your bed?”
“Sure,” she replied as though it was the most natural request in the world. “I reckon you’d enjoy it. It would be something different for a change. I bet you’ve never done anything like that either, have you?”
“Well... I... are you serious?” he stuttered.
She had been walking towards the bedroom as they spoke. He had followed her without realising it. She turned and flung her arms around his neck.
“Kiss me,” she said.
Instinctively he bent his head down, his lips meeting hers as they opened and her tongue pressed into his mouth. She broke the contact almost immediately, stepping back from him with her mouth still open and her tongue protruding.
“Take your shirt off,” she suggested, and when he made no move she took a step forward again and started to undo the buttons down the front of his shirt. He did not try to stop her.
“Lie on the bed, on your back,” she instructed as his shirt fell to the floor behind him. “Kick your shoes off first.”
It was a big bed, wooden framed with a firm mattress. He sat on the edge, still not convinced that she was serious about this and half expecting that at any moment she would tell him to put on his shirt and leave. She pushed him backwards playfully and then lifted his feet and pulled off his shoes before swinging his legs round and onto the bed.
“Move yourself,” she demanded, aiming a playful slap at him. “Right in the middle of the bed. That’s right.”
She tied his wrists to the top corners of the bed with lengths of cord, knotting the cord tightly and testing it to make quite sure it was secure.
“Now I’ve got you,” she said lightly.
“Very funny,” he said, a little grumpily. “It’s not very comfortable.”
She leapt onto the bed and sat astride his chest. He stared straight at her silvery knickers revealed under her short skirt.
“Do you like what you see?” she asked softly, noticing immediately where he was looking.
She did not wait for an answer. She moved up the bed until her knees were either side of his head. “Kiss,” she instructed, presenting the smooth, shiny front of her knickers to his lips.
For no more than two or three seconds she pressed herself onto his mouth, and then giggling girlishly she returned to a sitting position on his chest.
“You’re wicked!” he told her breathlessly.
“You have no idea just how wicked,” she answered seriously. “But you might find out, if you’re lucky.”
There was silence, a long silence that lasted for over a minute. He looked up into her eyes, seeming to be held by them. She finally broke the eye contact with a toss of her head that sent her long blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders.
“You’re trembling,” she said, surprised. “I can feel it. Am I that scary?”
“Of course not,” he told her. “You’re beautiful.”
“You say the nicest things.” She giggled again. “Let’s see just how beautiful you are.”