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By C. A. Taylor
3 Naked
More than three weeks elapsed with no sign of the mystery woman. William began to wonder if he would ever see her again. Moreover, he was annoyed to find that the idea of not seeing her again filled him with disappointment and longing. His inquiries had turned up nothing, leaving him frustrated but with no avenues to pursue. So he was both surprised and pleased when he found her cruiser pulling into his driveway behind him, one Friday afternoon.
Stepping out of the car, she walked up to him and said, “Hello, William.”
He nodded a greeting, questions and irritation in his eyes. In spite of the great sex, he resented her high-handedness, not to mention actually being kidnapped. Twice.
She noticed, but picked up the reins smoothly. “On your knees, William. Hands behind your back.” He reluctantly followed her orders and was not surprised when the metal cuffs clasped his wrists. “Get into the cruiser,” was the next command.
Relieved to be spared the blindfold, his shoulders relaxed as he followed her directions. Returning to the driver’s seat, she commanded, “Be silent, William,” then turned her attention to her driving. Driving smoothly, they traveled into the heart of the city, going against rush hour traffic for the most part.
William’s mind darted about as the cruiser meandered its way through the streets. His groin was already becoming heavy, his cock starting to throb. He was amazed how much he has missed her. How did she provoke such an uncontrollable fascination in him? Why did he crave these experiences so much? With no answers available, he settled back in the cruiser and waited, eager to know what she had in store for him tonight.
The Mistress kept a discreet eye on William as she drove. He was at a critical juncture, and required careful monitoring. That was why she had chosen tonight to push his boundaries. So far, their sessions had been of the Disneyland variety. Sexual stimulation and release had been center stage, with notes of control and compliance confined to the sidelines. Tonight it was time to see how he reacted to the control without the sexual stimulation.
Crossing the river, the cruiser slowed and turned into a narrow street, tall buildings peering down from either side. Turning again, she drove into an alley servicing the behemoths. She parked the cruiser near a service entrance and turned to look back at William.
“We are going into this hotel. You will stay at my side at all times. You will speak to no one. You will not draw attention to yourself in any way.”
“Yes, Mistress,” William dutifully replied. This seemed so ordinary. Too much like a tawdry affair. William’s eyes fell, covering his disappointment. As he exited the police cruiser, she turned him around and quietly removed the handcuffs, then led the way through an unmarked door.
Walking down a dark corridor, they passed swinging double doors that clearly led to the kitchens. Beyond was a row of doors, no doubt leading to administrative offices. Continuing on to the ornate marble and gilt lobby, the Mistress never hesitated. Heading directly for the bank of elevators, William carefully kept pace with her, glancing inconspicuously around, being careful never to meet anyone’s eyes.
Once inside the elevator, the Mistress punched the button for the top floor. In a hotel this lavish, it was certainly reserved for suites and penthouses. William quirked a brow, wondering how a police officer could possibly afford a place like this for a rendezvous. Arriving at their destination, the Mistress walked briskly down a corridor to the last door on the right. Using a keycard, she gained entry, holding the door for William.
As he suspected, the place was enormous and lavish. Past a living room as large as a basketball court, he saw a curved bank of windows leading to a carefully landscaped terrace complete with a swimming pool surrounded by marble columns. Padded chaise lounges dotted the perimeter, a built-in bar and grill off to one side. Without looking, William knew the view would be spectacular. William stood, his back to the Mistress, and waited for her command.
“Turn around, William.”
He complied.
“Now strip,” she ordered, matter-of-factly.
Taken aback at the order, William’s curiosity was also aroused. No one had ever stated their desires quite so boldly. “Blunt, aren’t you?” he observed. William looked at her a moment, then, “Aren’t you afraid I might grab you? Ravish you?”
The Mistress smiled, and shook her head. “You won’t, William.”
“I won’t?” he asked. “Why not?”
“Because I am trained to control men much bigger than me, and you probably wouldn’t succeed. You might even get hurt in the process. But more importantly, no matter what the outcome, today would be the last time you would ever see me. And you’re not ready for that,” she added softly.
William looked at her steadily for a moment, then dropped his eyes, sighed, and began loosening his tie.
“Hurry up, William. I don’t need a striptease. I just want you naked.”
“What about what I want?”
“You want to see what happens next,” she replied confidently.
Silently acknowledging the truth of her statement, William unbuttoned and removed his shirt. As he continued to disrobe, she wrinkled her nose at the white jockey shorts. “Get rid of those jockey shorts,” she demanded. “I don’t want to see you in them again. You can wear boxers or go commando, but no more briefs.”
Once he had removed his clothing, folded it, and placed it on a chair as directed, he looked up at her, waiting silently, his heart rate and breathing climbing in anticipation.
The Mistress led him out to the terrace, and over to one of the columns at the far side of the pool. The columns held up carved slabs of white marble, arcing gently around the pool in an open circle slightly reminiscent of Stonehenge, but much more delicate. About thirty feet away, the terrace ended in a Plexiglas and chrome wall. From where he stood, he commanded a striking view of the city laid out to the west of downtown.
Digging around in her shoulder bag, the Mistress extracted two heavy leather cuffs and handed them to him. “These are ankle restraints, William. Put them on.” Kneeling down on the manicured lawn, William buckled the cuffs snuggly onto each ankle. Rising, he then obediently held out his wrists while the Mistress attached slightly smaller cuffs to each of them. Walking behind the column, the Mistress positioned a stepladder that was waiting nearby, and climbed up, pressing something into the column.
“William, place your back against the column and raise your arms,” she ordered.
Puzzled at this order, he slowly complied. As he did so, she threaded a leather strap through the ring in the cuff, then ran it behind the column and threaded it through the ring of the other wrist cuff. Running the leather over a hook embedded in the column, she tightened the strap until William’s arms were drawn high above his head and part way around the thick column.
Climbing off the stepladder, the Mistress bent down, attaching a similar strap to one of his ankle restraints. Again running the leather behind the column, she hooked his other ankle to the strap. Directing William to spread his legs and bring his heels back as far as he could, she tightened the strap.
Walking around to survey her handiwork, she was awed by the results. William’s legs were drawn back tightly to the outside of the pillar, thighs flexed and heels barely touching the ground. His arms were pulled up and back, raising his chest and hollowing his sculpted abdomen. With his shoulders pressed tight against the column, his back was slightly arched, forcing his pelvis forward, erect cock begging for attention.
Tightly bound, the lines of his body from his forearms all the way down to his calves were taut. He was unable to move, barely able to shift his weight. The lines were breathtaking, and her mouth curved into a smile of deep appreciation. Although he was in his mid-thirties and not overly muscular, William was fit and trim. His lithe, slender build reminded her of professional dancers she had known.
“That’s beautiful, William.”
William’s head was thrown up and back as he looked at the paraphernalia attaching him to the marble pillar. Elegant in its simplicity, there was no way William could reach the buckles at his wrists or the buckle on the leather strap at the back of the column.
His eyes snapped down to the Mistress’ face as she briefly caressed his shaft, then darted away, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks. Irrelevantly, he noted her eyes were an icy light blue.
“What’s the matter, William, worried about the ‘eye in the sky’?” she teased. “Being exposed out-of-doors feels very different, doesn’t it?” she commented.
Satisfied with her preparations, she removed a professional-grade Nikon camera from her bag, setting the bag out of her way. Returning to William, the sick look on his face amused her.
“Yes, William, I am going to take pictures of you. Here. Naked. For my pleasure. Now, since you can’t affect the outcome, why don’t you just relax into the inevitable?”
Firming his lips into a thin line, William stared straight ahead, rebellion clear in every line. “You can’t do this,” he stated.
“Yes, William, I can,” the Mistress ran her hand up and down his chest. “How are you going to stop me?”
“I can’t stop you from taking the photos,” he conceded, “but I can have your camera, the film, and the prints impounded for invasion of privacy,” William threatened.
“First, how would you issue the writ? You don’t know my name or where to find me. Second, you would have to admit the nature of the pictures to obtain the warrant, and I don’t think you want a record indicating there are nude photos of you around somewhere. I assure you, I take the security of my prints and negatives very seriously. You don’t have to worry about finding these shots on the Internet.”
The Mistress paused to see if he had the fortitude to continue, or whether she had pushed his boundaries too far. Running her hand through his hair, she softly said, “Trust me, William.”
When he capitulated, she could not help but admire his strength and adaptability. Unaware of her thoughts, William yielded, realizing the Mistress was right. There was nothing he could do to prevent her taking the photos, and making a legal fuss would probably be both embarrassing and useless. Accepting the inevitable, he sighed, and then stood still while she snapped away in the late afternoon light, directing him to tilt his head or shift his position slightly, as needed. The light was bright enough to reveal the deep blue of his eyes, dark as the Mediterranean. Climbing the stepladder, the Mistress raised her Nikon and took several shots looking down at his shadowed profile, framed by his arms. His head thrown back and neck exposed in the reddening light, he looked like Prometheus, resigned to his fate. She again took a wide array of photos from many different angles, posing him as she went along. Slowly, the light faded, and William breathed a sigh of relief, certain his torment was about to end.
Instead, the Mistress took a break to change the film in her camera to black and white. Using the stepladder, she removed the hook from the column, and let out some slack in the strap. Ordering William to lower his arms, she again tightened the strap, leaving him just as firmly attached to the pillar, but with his arms lowered and hands stretched around behind the column. She then retrieved a tripod and two light stands from behind the bar. Once they were set up, she resumed her photo study of his nude body. She took everything from headshots and close ups to full body shots at various angles, using the light and shadows to define the curves and planes of his body. His erection was a prominent player in many of her shots.
Finally satisfied, she put the camera down. The whole ordeal had lasted less than two hours, but William’s body was aching from the tension of his taut muscles, and he had long ago lost feeling in his hands. Throughout it all, his cock had remained at attention, throbbing with need, his eyes dilated with desire.
Gently stroking him, the Mistress looked up at him and observed, “You have stayed hard through the entire photo shoot. What about it makes you so hot?”
“Nothing,” William responded, looking away.
Slapping him sharply on the inner thigh, the Mistress snapped “Don’t lie to me, William! Not ever.”
“What is it about the photo shoot that turns you on?” she asked more gently, again stroking him.
Unable to meet her eyes, he admitted, “I guess it reminds me a bit of one of my favorite fantasies.”
“Tell me,” she ordered.
Taking a deep breath, William sighed, looked out over the city, and then began, speaking very low. “In my fantasy, I live about a thousand years ago. I belong to a Celtic tribe, and am a renowned warrior.
“One day on a hunting expedition I become separated from the rest of the hunters, and am ambushed by the warriors of a neighboring tribe. Surrounded and outnumbered twenty to one, I drop my weapons and slowly sink to my knees in surrender.
“They bind my hands behind my back, and then haul me to my feet. I am forced to march with them back to their encampment.
“This tribe is dominated by women, who are the hunters and warriors. They keep their men as slaves to labor in the fields. As I am a feared warrior from another tribe, I am a great prize.”
William paused to glance at the Mistress, gauging her reaction to his words. Seeing no sign of judgment or derision, he continued.
“Well, I am immediately put to work as a slave in their fields. But, instead of being kept in the men’s camp nearby, every evening I am brought up to the women’s encampment. Since I am healthy and accomplished, and of another tribe, I am valued as breeding stock.
“Every night I am tied hand and foot, placed on my back and forced to have sex with chosen women of child-bearing age. And, well,” he paused, “that’s my fantasy.”
Nodding, the Mistress resumed stroking his shaft, this time with more energy and purpose.
“So, William, that turns you on,” she said. He nodded, eyes on the ground.
“You like being helpless, being objectified, being used like that,” she stated, pumping him as she uttered each phrase.
Again, he nodded.
“Good,” she approved briskly. “Because I intend to make you helpless, objectify you, and use you whenever possible,” she whispered in his ear. Gripping him firmly, she pumped him until he was ready to come, a low growl rumbling in his throat. With one last stroke, she squeezed his balls, and he let out a roar as he climaxed, jetting semen onto the concrete apron edging the pool.
Once his breathing slowed, the Mistress released the strap holding his arms in place, cautioning William to lower his arms slowly, allowing the circulation to resume a bit at a time. Then she released his ankles, again retrieving the strap.
The stabbing of pins-and-needles still assaulted his arms and hands, but William barely noticed in the blessed relief of being able to move and stretch his aching muscles. He was stunned speechless when the Mistress walked over and tenderly wrapped him in a heavy, quilted blanket, then urged him to sit and rest against the pillar that had been his prison. William wondered if he would ever understand the paradox of this woman.
The Mistress took her time carefully putting away the photographic equipment. Then she carefully locked the camera and film into a metal case, and, carrying it, directed William to a comfortable chair indoors. Retrieving two bottles of water from the stocked fridge, she handed one to William, and sat down. Still wearing the black cuffs, he drank his water, and rested his forearms on his thighs, pondering the woman seated next to him.
“What are you going to do with those photos?” he finally asked.
“Enjoy them,” she replied with an enigmatic smile. “Just as I enjoy you.”
“Do you?” William asked curiously. “Enjoy me, I mean.”
Assessing him with a practiced eye, the Mistress was pleased at his quick recovery. She knew how draining it was to be held in place for hours at a time, but William was alert and clearly not in pain. His strength and resilience were extraordinary. And his response to the control scenario had been positive. Very positive, considering his fantasy. She would have to think about that.
“Yes, William, I do,” she responded, leaning over, cupping his neck and kissing him tenderly.
“Why?” William asked.
“Why do I enjoy you?” the Mistress responded. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
William flushed at the comment, but pursued the thought. “No, I mean, why me? I don’t understand this game, if that is what you are playing.”
“Why does there have to be a reason, William? Can’t you just enjoy our time together?”
“I don’t like the balance of power. You seem to know a great deal about me. I don’t even know your name.”
“And that makes you feel vulnerable,” she cut him off. “Are you telling me you don’t like the feeling?” she asked.
William nodded.
“Do you like the sex?” she pursued.
Again, William nodded.
“Well, part of what makes the sex so good is your feeling of vulnerability. Of never knowing what to expect. Besides,” she shrugged, “I haven’t offered you a choice.”
As he finished the water, she removed the leather cuffs, and then ordered him to get up and get dressed. Once he was clothed, she directed him back out of the hotel to the police cruiser. Ordering him to turn around, she fastened the familiar metal handcuffs on his wrists, and placed him into the car.
The drive back to his home was silent, the Mistress content with her thoughts, and William, exhausted, rested quietly against the back seat. Upon arrival, the Mistress helped him out of the car, made him kneel, caressed the back of his neck, and removed the cuffs. As she turned to go, William asked, “Mistress, when will I see you again?”
His query received no reply.
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