“Dude, where the fuck are you?” my best friend Jayce barks into my ear. “The vow ceremony is about to start. Your chosen—”
“You can have her,” I interrupt him, knowing where this conversation is going and not caring.
He starts laughing, and I end the call when I make it to the back door. Just as I suspected, it’s unlocked. I gently push it open to step inside, holding my breath that it doesn’t squeak and alert anyone in the house of my presence. Closing it behind me, I tiptoe across the tile floor and quickly scan the room. It’s dark. The clock that hangs on the wall to my left tells me it’s a little after midnight.
I have an assignment. Get in, get a list together, and report the information that I document back to the Lords. Making my way down the hallway, I stop to take a look in the kitchen. Using my flashlight, I see a bottle of wine on the white counter. It’s empty along with two wineglasses. One has a very distinctive pink lipstick stain. I’d know it anywhere.
Turning away from the kitchen, I head toward the master suite. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours studying the blueprints of this house, so I know where everything is.
Pushing open the bedroom door, I shine my light to see it’s empty. That means there’s only one other place to look. I make my way back to where I entered the house, but instead of going outside, I take a right down another hallway. There’s a door at the end with two locks on it. Both are deadbolts, but they lock from the outside. They are designed to keep something in on the other side. Not to keep someone out.
Turning both to unlock, I step inside, knowing it leads to the basement. My boots are heavy on the wooden stairs. Coming to the last step, I lift my light to see the room. It’s what anyone would call a dungeon. Whips, chains, and leather belts hang on the back wall in various shapes and sizes. Some would use them to destroy flesh. He uses them to make women come. Handcuffs, chains, and rope also hang from hooks and sit on shelves with masks and gags.
This is a sex dungeon.
I can’t say that I’m not jealous because I am. One day, I’ll have my own, but until then, I’ll just borrow his.
Shining my light over to the single bed in the center of the concrete room, I see what I came for. She lies there in the middle of the mattress, on her back, arms and legs spread wide open. She’s naked.
She’s got a blindfold over her eyes and a gag in her mouth—a clear piece of tape over her lips, but I can see what looks to be her underwear inside her mouth, filling out her cheeks.
Knowing she can’t see me, I flip on the light to get a better view. She’s not moving in her restraints, and by the look of the second empty bottle of wine I spot down here, I’d say she’s passed out due to having too much to drink. Or maybe he drugged her. Either way, she willingly drove her car here, knowing he would tie her up and leave her. He plans to use her when he returns. That’s what I’ve found from the research I’ve done so far anyway. He likes them to sit and wonder when he’ll return to use them. They get off on the anticipation.
This explains why she hasn’t messaged me to ask where I’ve been since I haven’t been over to visit her. She found someone who can give her what she wants. Actual dick. Well, it’s her lucky night. I’m officially a Lord and can stick my cock wherever I want.
Walking over to stand at the end of the bed, I look over her. The bed has an iron rail headboard and matching footboard. Vertical bars run up and down on both ends. Gives him something to tie them to. It’s a twin-size. Doesn’t need to be big or comfortable, for that matter. It’s not meant to sleep on.
Rope wraps around each wrist and ankle, then are tied off to the corners of the bed, securing her to it. No covers or pillows. Just her on a bare mattress spread wide open and ready to be used. My hard cock presses painfully against my jeans. I’ve seen her naked before. I’ve tied her down and gotten her off more times than I can count over the last two years, but this time, it’s different. She’s here for me to use. However I want.
Unable to stop myself, I reach down and undo my jeans, pulling out my cock. I stroke it a few times, my fingers feeling the piercings that run along my shaft.
When you’re told you can’t fuck, you find other ways to get off. Porn got old really fast. One of mine is pain—giving and receiving.
A mumbled cry comes from her taped lips, and she arches her back. She’s awake, after all. I make my way over to the headboard and look down at her. Reaching out, I run my fingertips along the tape over her pretty lips. The once pink lipstick is smeared all over it.
She yanks on the rope harder, her hips thrusting so hard that the bed rattles when she slams them back down onto the mattress. My heart pounds in my chest at the fact that she was going to fuck another man tonight. That I’m not the only one to get to use her. I’ve watched her in her room. I’ve followed her everywhere. When did she have the chance to meet him? To even have the conversation to make herself so vulnerable to him?
I slap her. Not hard enough to leave a print but enough to sting. She winces, but I love the way her nipples harden. She’s just like me. Pain gets us off. Leaning over the headboard, I grip both of her full breasts in my hands and massage them. Then move to her nipples, and I twist them between my fingers before pulling on them, making her scream into the tape, and I let go. Her body sags into the bed, and she breathes deeply through her nose.
Making my way back down to the foot of the bed, I lightly touch her ankle. Soft as a feather, I run the tips of my fingers along her smooth leg and up her inner thigh. The woman is five-four and doesn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds. She moves once more, her back arching, her arms and legs pulling on her restraints.
I smile, my hand stopping on the inside of her thigh, just inches from her smooth cunt. She twists her narrow hips, trying to get my hand to go where she wants it. I want to deny her. Rip off the blindfold and see the shocked look in her pretty eyes. See fear that I’ve found her here so helpless. Embarrassed that she’s tied up for another man, but I’m the one who’s going to make her a whore.
My hand moves upward, and I slide two fingers over her cunt. Unable to help myself, I spread her pussy open wide for me to look at how wet she is. She whimpers, her neck arching, and my free hand reaches out, wrapping around her delicate throat and holding it down to the bed. She goes frantic, her hips bucking while she mumbles nonsense into her gag.
I push a finger into her, biting my bottom lip to keep from making a noise. She thinks I’m someone else, and I don’t want her to know it’s not him. I push a second one in, moving them in and out a couple of times before adding a third. She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, and I feel her throat work as she swallows against my hand wrapped around it.
Pulling them out, I watch as she sags against the bed. I climb between her open legs and shove my knees into her thighs, pulling the rope around her ankles taut at this angle. I could untie her legs, knowing she won’t fight me, but I’d rather have her like this. I don’t even bother removing my jeans.
Leaning over, I spit on her cunt, making sure she hears it, and then slap the side of her breast like I did her face. She whimpers, body jerking, but her nipples harden. Fuck, her tits are perfect. I’m not an expert, but I know she’s a thirty-two C cup. I’ve checked her bra sizes before. When I say I’m obsessed with this woman, I mean it. I know everything there is to know about her.
The fact that she’s tied up in another man’s basement reminds me that I only thought I did.
Getting her off over the past couple of years as a stranger has just made my obsession ten times worse. Do you know how hard it is to keep your true identity a secret when you know they want you? It’s a new level of fucking torture.
My hand comes down, slapping her cunt, and she cries out into her gag. I do it again, and the metal bedframe rattles at her useless attempt to free herself. Looking over her pussy, I see it’s now red, and I start to massage her clit. She still has it pierced, and I still crave to taste it. But not now. I’ll get my chance. Tonight is just the beginning of the rest of her life being mine and serving me.
I might not be fucking my chosen right now in front of my fellow Lords, but I no longer have to be celibate. I can fuck whoever I want. I’ve waited years for this—for her—and I’m not going to pass up the opportunity. No matter how wrong some may think it is.