Chapter 8
The next morning, Sue was barely able to drag herself out of bed. She had partially awakened up when Jerry got up and left at six. At eight, the last possible moment for her to get up, she managed to stagger out of bed, stumble blindly to the kitchen to make some instant coffee. While she waited for the water to boil she ducked into the bathroom. Her face was a mess, bloated and puffy with sleep, bags under her eyes, and she decided her eyeballs looked like a road map of the Village.
The tea kettle whistled just as she finished rinsing her face with a cold washcloth. The instant coffee scalded her tongue and she slammed the cup down, slopping the hot liquid over her hand. The pain in her mouth and on her hand combined to wake her up instantly. Muttering to herself, she hurriedly dressed, then sipped the coffee tentatively. Hot enough to be painful, but not hot enough to burn, it scorched down her throat and she gradually found her interest in the rest of the world increasing. Her hair was hopeless, so she stuffed it under a wig and hurried out the door.
The day was a nightmare of exhaustion to her. Her fingers felt like sausages on the keyboard of her typewriter, and she found it impossible to keep her shorthand symbols straight. The third time she asked her boss to repeat something he was dictating, he eyed her critically.
"Miss Patterson, if we're keeping you up, I do hope you'll forgive us. This is, believe it or not, a business office."
"Yes, sir," she agreed meekly. Normally she would have turned on her charm. This time she was so tired she could only cringe under the tongue lashing.
Lunch time gave her a pleasant break, and she used one of the back offices for a quick half-hour nap that did much to restore her strength. She managed to calm her boss' bad temper by some artful flirting, and by quitting time again had to fend off an offer of dinner from him. Just as she was about to step away from her desk, the phone rang. For a second she debated not answering it, but lost the battle and reached for it, knowing who it would be and what it would mean.
"Come over at seven," Paul ordered.
"Paul, I'm terribly tired," Sue argued.
"Come over at seven," he repeated again, keeping his voice calm and reasonable.
She caved in again. "Yes, Paul." As she hung up she cursed herself for not standing up to him. She knew the evening would be agonizing, and dreaded another beating. At the same time she remembered the incredible inverted ravishing she had received the night before and felt a flutter of excitement in her belly. The session with Jerry Danvers was almost forgotten. The deadly fascination she felt for Paul Matthews was overwhelming everything else in her life, and she felt helpless against it.
At seven o'clock she was at his door. Lacking instruction, she had worn the same dress she had worn to work, but stripped away her underpants and bra in accordance with his early rules.
"Very prompt," he complimented her, and she felt a peculiar flush of pleasure. "Mix me a drink and then fix yourself one."
As she mixed his martini, she found herself taking extra care to get it right. She wondered about his thoughtfulness toward her this evening, but knew better than to question him about it. Instead she mixed herself a gin and tonic and brought him his martini. Sitting gingerly on the couch, she sipped her drink, relishing it more than she ever had in the past.
After testing his martini, Paul nodded approvingly. "Very good. You learn rapidly." Sue smiled, relaxing gradually.
"After you have your drink, you'll find all the dinner fixings out in the kitchen ready for you. It's a simple meal, and you can join me at the dinner table when you've prepared it. You were quite good last night, except for your tardiness at times, and this evening you were right on time. I like that."
"Thank you," she muttered.
"This doesn't mean you're off the hook. I just want you to see that this relationship has rewards as well as punishments," he told her. "If you step out of line, the rope and strap are right here." He indicated them coiled significantly on the coffee table.
"Yes, Paul." She shivered at the sight of them. Seeking refuge from his sight, she gulped her drink and quickly finished it. "I'll go fix dinner."
Out in the kitchen she found it was only a few minutes work to get dinner underway. In half an hour it was ready and she called Paul to the table. As if he were courting her, he held her chair for her as she sat down, then took his own place. Understanding what was expected of her, she passed him the food for the first servings, then served herself. When something was needed from the kitchen, she was the one who had to get up and get it. She was not, however, being treated like the slave she had been.
Halfway through dinner the gin and tonic suddenly hit her, leaving her groggy and fighting to control her hands. The alcohol combined with her exhaustion to make conversation impossible. Struggling, she managed to conceal her giddiness and dizziness until after dessert. A feeling of impending disaster hung over her by then, and she waited, terrified, for her first serious mistake. As she served dessert, she kept casting surreptitious glances over at the rope and strap. This proved to be her undoing as she slopped coffee into Paul's saucer.
She froze, watching him fearfully as he drummed on the table. "That's not very good," he said calmly.
"I'm sorry, I'll get you a fresh cup and saucer." Hurriedly, she took the old one away and replaced it. As she poured again, she knew he was still angry. Her buttocks seemed to warm all by themselves as she poured her own coffee. In fearful silence she sat down and stared into her cup, her appetite gone completely. Paul maintained a stony silence until he finished his coffee.
"Bring me a sherry," he ordered, getting up from the table. "And then clean up this mess."
"Yes, Paul."
When she handed him the glass, some of the sherry spilled because of the trembling of her hand. Paul muttered a curse and threw the rest of the sherry at her, spraying her face with the sticky wine.
"That does it," Paul growled. "Take off that dress. And if you're wearing anything under it, it will go twice as hard on you."
"Y-yes, Paul," Sue answered meekly and began removing her dress. She felt a weird surge of excitement as she unzipped it and stripped it off over her head. Underneath she was nude. Dropping the dress, she stood at attention in front of him, feeling his eyes rake over her from head to toe.
"Get the rope," he finally ordered.
Sue's pulse quickened as she picked up the coil of rope and slipped the noose over her wrists. Mutely, she held her arms out and handed him the free end. With a jerk he tightened the loop around her wrists. Head bowed, she stood before him as he studied her again. An exciting mixture of fear and anticipation burned through her, making her knees quiver. Finally the big man got up from the couch and led her across the room by the rope. When he drew back the curtains from the French doors to the terrace, Sue gasped, knowing what he was about to do. A knot of excitement exploded in her gut.
Opening both the doors he lifted the length of rope and hooked it over an iron rod on the outside of the door frame. Stark naked, Sue found herself facing the dark mass of the City, the night air brushing over her body. Casually, Paul tightened the rope, dragging her arms up over her head. Leaving her some slack, he bent down and took her ankles, spreading her feet apart. From the sides of the doorway he pulled lengths of rope and tied each of her ankles, trapping her with her legs spread wide. Then he again tightened the rope to her wrists, drawing her arms up straight.
"Someone will see," she moaned in a mixture of shame, fear and excitement. Her legs, body and arms formed an inverted Y in the doorway. She felt as if a million eyes were on her as she hung there, helpless.
"I want the whole city to see," Paul remarked calmly. "I thought you would respond to some kindness, but all I got for my trouble was a mess. Understand?"
"Yes, Paul," Sue agreed meekly. Inside she wondered how he could so rapidly destroy her defiance of him. When she was away from him, wild plots of revenge raced through her mind, but in Paul's presence they melted away like ice in the desert.
"There was no excuse for either the coffee or the wine to be spilled like that," Paul went on. Sue jumped when he cracked the leather belt behind her. "I don't intend for it ever happen again. It's obvious that the only thing you respect is punishment. Courtesy only seems to breed contempt in you."
"Yes, Paul," Sue agreed again. She stared out into the night and thought she could see a thousand faces at a thousand windows witnessing her degradation. Over on the Avenue horns honked and traffic rushed by, while down on the street a lone man walked his dog. Sue was first hopeful he would look up and come to her rescue, then terrified he would look up and see her helpless, naked body spread against the dark face of the building.
"This isn't quite right," Paul remarked behind her. There was a series of unidentifiable noises behind her; then he slipped past her. She looked down and her blood froze. Her last possible covering, the darkness, was being stripped from her as he set up a light in front of her and clicked it on. The glare flooded over her body, blinding her. She knew she stood out against the dark facade of the building like a pagan sacrifice. Her pale body would be like a beacon, drawing curious eyes to it. And in her heart she knew that in New York City everybody would look and wonder, but no one would come to her rescue. Squeezing her eyes shut against the glare of the light, she felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.
Paul stepped back into the apartment and she heard the belt crack in his hands. Tensing her muscles, she waited for the first blow. Her fear, shame and disgust were combining in her stomach to tighten it to a hard knot, and sexual excitement surged to life as she waited.
The first blow burned like fire across the back of her tightly stretched thighs. With slow, measured strokes, Paul worked his way up toward her buttocks, slowly setting every square inch of the back of her thighs aflame. As usual, the strokes were slow, measured, giving her ample time to anticipate each one. The anticipation only made each one worse. She bit her lip, fighting to keep from crying out, knowing if she did cry out it would attract a thousand people to windows opened to the summer night. The crack of the lash against her flesh echoed weirdly in the room behind her, while from in front of her came the usual evening noises of the city. Television sets blared, families laughed and talked, babies cried, and a car hissed past on the narrow street below as blow after stinging blow blazed across Sue's back. The cool night air raised goosebumps on her arms and the front of her legs, while the backs of her thighs felt as if they had been set afire. Her cunt was humming with excitement, the mild breeze drying her juices on her as quickly as they flowed, providing a strange, icy counterpoint to the fire being brought to life in her buttocks.
Deep inside, as the beating went on and on, Sue felt her passions growing, a ball of fire matching the burning of her ass. Her mouth watered in anticipation of the climax she felt approaching, a climax triggered purely by the beating she was receiving. Her thigh muscles tightened and twisted with excitement, and the muscles in her stomach fluttered in anticipation of the approaching orgasm. Closer and closer she drew to the desperately desired release, every stroke of the belt inching her passions higher until she was gasping with joy.
Suddenly the blows stopped. For ageless moments she hung there, muscles locked, waiting for the next blow, but nothing happened. Desperately she squirmed against the ropes in an attempt to reach the climax that hung just out of reach. Her body screamed for relief as she writhed against her bonds.
Then there was something behind her—a hot hard mass prying between her buttocks. Desperately she rotated her pelvis, trying to bring her vagina in line with whatever that desirable mass was. Paul's hands clamped down on her hips, locking her pelvis in place, and the head of his cock poked at her asshole, triggering a new blaze of excitement in her. She felt her feet lifting from the floor as he steadily drove his cock upward into her anus. The tight ring of muscle slowly yielded before his onslaught, but the friction of the nearly dry tool was agonizing. He backed away for a moment, then came back at her. This time his cock was slick with some lubricant and her asshole yielded more readily to him. A fraction of an inch at a time she felt the head of his cock wedge her anus open, and she fought to admit him.
Her lust boiled rapidly higher as she felt him slowly gaining access to her bowels. The ring of muscle snapped into the groove at the base of the head of his cock, sending a jolt of fire through Sue. His angle was wrong as he continued to bore his way into her, and she twisted her pelvis to line her rectum up with his ramming shaft. Her mouth was open in a soundless scream of joy as he gained ground in her. She reached a peak, and then went still higher as he drilled his way into her. She felt as if she was being torn wide open by his monster cock. His hands reached around her, found the juicy distended tissues of her cunt, and mashed them brutally. She rocketed to a climax.
Finally he was completely in her, his hips pressing tightly against her buttocks, the full length of his prick rammed up her ass. He lifted her off the floor with his hips and she hung suspended on his cock, her belly arched out into the night air. The breezes teased her rock-hard nipples as she hung there, spotlighted against the face of the building, his cock spitting her brutally. The mixture of pain and sexual excitement drove her mad.
He wrapped his fingers around her waist in a bruising grip. Using his hands to keep her suspended in mid-air, he began to piston his cock slowly in and out of her rectum. The slipping friction of that huge tool in her butt drove Sue to still another orgasm. Her juices gushed outward from her cunt, pouring down her thighs in streams turned to ice by the night breezes.
Faster and faster he pounded his cock into her, using his hands to lift her and drive her down on him. The impact of the blows rattled up her spine, making her ears ring as he pounded at her harder and harder. Her clitoris swelled, desperately demanding attention, but with her hands bound Sue was helpless to reach it. She climaxed again, then felt Paul slam her down on his cock one last time. He began to fountain wads of come up into her bowels, and Sue climaxed again, this time emitting a soft wail of pleasure as the world whirled around her.
She was only dimly aware of Paul lowering her feet back to the floor and withdrawing his swiftly wilting cock from her asshole. Exhausted, her legs like rubber, Sue hung from her wrists in the doorway, fighting to regain her senses. Finally she managed to regain her strength enough to ease the strain on her wrists by standing up. She tried to look around and find Paul, but her arms prevented her from seeing behind her and the ropes to her ankles kept her from turning around. She could feel his come slowly trickling out of her ass, sticking her buttocks together as it dried.
She heard Paul moving around the room behind her, then the sound of something being poured. Helplessly, she could only stare out into the night, half blinded by the glare of the spotlight.
"Now, I'm going to have my sherry," Paul remarked from behind her, the couch creaking slightly as he settled down on it. She heard the thump of his feet going up on the coffee table, then silence, broken only by an appreciative sigh.
The breeze chilled her as it dried the sweat of her passion, and her teeth began to chatter slightly. Her muscles knotted, then shivered convulsively, then knotted again. Her shoulders ached from the strain of the ropes, and her hands were cold and numb. Only the pain kept her from dozing off.
After what seemed like hours, she heard Paul get up from the couch and go out to the kitchen. He returned and she felt him releasing the ropes around her ankles. When that was done, he unfastened the rope holding her wrists over her head. She had to fight down a gasp of pain as she lowered her arms, her shoulders protesting fiercely. She stumbled slightly as she backed away from the doorway. The room felt warm and comfortable after the cool night.
Almost gently, Paul untied her wrists. She massaged the circulation back into her hands and inspected the damage the rope had done to her tender skin.
"Go home," Paul ordered.
Awkwardly she fumbled with her dress and managed to slip it on, then put on her coat. His come and hers felt sticky on her thighs as she hurried homeward. Her body ached with exhaustion as she slipped out of her clothes and fell into bed without bathing.
She woke up enough in the morning to call her office and plead sickness; then she fell asleep again. It was late afternoon when the phone rang.
It was Jerry Danvers.
"I called your office and they said you were sick," Jerry remarked.
"I'm not really sick, just exhausted."
"I'm off work right now. Have you had anything to eat?"
"No, I just got up."
"Look, why don't you meet me for some food?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just too tired to go out," Sue explained.
"Okay, then I'll bring something over," Jerry replied.
"No, you don't need to do that. I'll be fine."
"No trouble at all. I'll be there in half an hour," Jerry answered, hanging up before she could say anything more.
She almost panicked. If Paul came over while Jerry was there, she was doomed. She tried to think of a way out, but her sleep-dulled mind refused to work. Finally she decided on a shower to wake her up and sluice away the evidence of the previous night. The hot water roused her, and restored her confidence. Paul had come to her apartment only that one time, and seemed to suspect nothing of her relationship with Jerry. It would be a relief to have a quiet dinner with the shy man after her brutal treatment by Paul.
She had just managed to bring order to her hair and slip into one of her more modest robes when the buzzer from the lobby sounded. Checking first, she admitted Jerry to the building. Waiting for him to arrive, she looked at her reflection in the mirror carefully. The only evidence of the night before was a slight redness around her wrists.
The doorbell rang and she opened the door to find Jerry standing outside with a brown paper bag in one hand and two pizza boxes in the other. Slipping past her with a quick word of greeting, he took over the dining table, spreading the boxes out and producing a bottle of wine from the sack.
"Just sit down," he ordered. "I'll find what we need."
She heard him rummaging around in the kitchen, and in seconds he was back with napkins, glasses, knives, and salt and pepper, all precariously clutched. Swiftly he spread them out and helped her into a chair, then sat down opposite her.
He cut a slice of pizza for her, then one for himself. "Now, eat," he ordered.
As she bit into the pizza, Sue looked at the young man opposite her. His courtesy and thoughtfulness contrasted dramatically with Paul's strength and dominance.
The pizza filled her stomach and the wine warmed her mind, until finally she felt stuffed and comfortable.
"I'll clear the table," Jerry quickly assured her.
As he bustled around removing the debris, Sue moved into the living room. She found his courtesy and thoughtfulness almost cloying. Her mind kept going back to Paul and his power over her. She wondered if he would call her office.
Jerry appeared with glasses of wine and guided her to the couch. As she sat down, she eyed him carefully, unsure of how to handle him. Curious as to what the effect would be, she let her robe slip a little to show the first creamy rise of her breasts. His eyes fastened on the display instantly, but this time there was no audible gulp. Instead, he set his wine down carefully, as if trying to keep his hand from shaking. Gently he reached for her, and she let him pull her in.
His lips were warm and tender against hers, not hard and demanding. The kiss was lingering and gentle, so lingering she almost felt the urge to hurry him along. Just as she was beginning to wonder if he had the courage to continue, his tongue probed gently at her lips. She slowly yielded to his exploring tongue, opening her mouth to him gradually. His hands still gripped her shoulders, holding her away from him. Trying to encourage him, she reached out and brushed his neck with feathering fingertips, scratching him slightly with her nails.
His progress was agonizingly slow, and Sue's passions quickly out reached his pace. But she managed to hold herself in restraint. As Jerry's hands slowly explored her sides and back, she found herself wishing for Paul's demanding boldness. Instead of being treated like fragile china, Sue found herself wanting to be treated like the slut she was. She remembered Paul's brutal buggering of her the night before, and her asshole twitched with excitement.
Gradually, Jerry grew bolder, his hands gently brushing over her breasts through the robe. She barely felt his first touch on her boobs. He pressed her breasts again, almost reverently. His hesitation at slipping his hands inside her robe made her breath catch from frustration. Her breasts were aching, ready for any kind of abuse, but Jerry went at her as if she were a butterfly. She arched her spine, pressing her breasts into his palms, until finally he reached for the belt of her robe and teased it loose.
Instead of shoving her robe back off her shoulders, he slipped his hands hesitantly inside to cup her naked breasts delicately. Her nipples poked up into his palms, but instead of bearing down on the tender mounds of flesh, he pulled his hands away from them, keeping contact only with his fingertips. She fumbled with his shirt buttons, wondering what it was going to take to get him more interested in her. His shirt opened easily and she brushed it back from his chest. He seemed to sense what she wanted, and finally pressed her robe back over her shoulders. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and let the robe crumple down around her waist, leaving her torso bare. His hands recaptured her breasts, finally pressing down firmly on her nipples. Waves of heat swept through Sue as she again kissed Jerry.
For a long time they remained that way, and Sue found herself thinking that by this time, Paul would have spitted her on his big cock, driving her to one orgasm after another. Anxiously, she fumbled with Jerry's belt and unfastened his pants. His cock was hard and ready as she freed it and began to play with it. His hands finally found her cunt and his fingers toyed with her juicy flesh, teasing fresh gushes of moisture from her vagina. She pulled him toward her, falling backward on the couch, spreading her thighs for him. Swiftly she guided his cock to her cunt and had to pull on his hips to get him to drive fully into her. Just as he touched bottom, the phone rang, making them both jerk. He started to draw out but she trapped him in her with her thighs even as she reached for the phone.
"H-hello," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady, knowing already who it was.
"Come over," Paul ordered.
Sue clapped a hand over Jerry's mouth as he seemed about to say something.
"I'm sorry, I'm busy right now," Sue replied, trying to stall.
"I don't care what you're doing. Come over. Or I'll come and get you."
Sue felt a surge of fear at the thought. If Paul found Jerry with her, Paul's reaction would be ferocious. She felt the last remnants of her passion for Jerry fading quickly. "What should I wear?" she asked, giving in.
"Nothing," Paul replied. "Just your coat."
"I'll be there," Sue agreed quickly.
With Jerry's cock, now half wilted, still buried in her, she hung up the phone and pushed him off. "I have to leave," she said bluntly.
Jerry's cock died on the spot, shrinking almost instantly. "What do you mean?"
Sue threw off her robe and went to the closet, nearly unconscious of her abrupt nudity. Quickly she slipped on her coat. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."
"Go where?" Jerry asked. He stared at her, amazed, as she buttoned her coat over her naked body. "You can't go out like that."
"I have to," Sue replied bluntly. "Now leave, please."
Jerry was fumbling with his clothes, hastily pulling his pants up and fastening them. "You're crazy!"
"Maybe," Sue admitted. Inside, she agreed with him. Instead of regretting the interruption, she found herself anxiously looking forward again to being with Paul.
"I am not going to let you leave here like that," Jerry protested, trying to block the door.
"Jerry, I don't have time to argue," she replied, holding the door open for him. "Either you leave right now, or I'll scream rape and bring down the whole building on you."
Jerry suddenly paled. Hurriedly he slipped out the door, then turned back to her. "You're crazy," he repeated.
She closed the door on him and waited. She heard the elevator doors close behind him, checked her reflection in the mirror and then went out, locking the door behind her.