On Caitlin’s thirtieth birthday, she woke to find a letter on her husband’s pillow.
“Open at 10 AM,” it said.
She looked at the clock. It was 8:15.
She looked back at the envelope, and considered it.
If she opened it now, there was absolutely no way Richard could know. Right?
As logical as that seemed, Caitlin didn’t trust that. Richard had a way of knowing these things.
Caitlin crawled out of bed and did her morning routine of yoga. Six years ago, when she’d first met Richard, she could do a whole suite of yoga poses without thinking about it; in the intervening time, she’d gotten a little bit heavier, and this had translated into her stupid breasts getting in her stupid way during her stupid morning yoga.
Richard had moved away for five years, and had only recently come back into the area. On the first night after they reconnected, he’d fucked her right in the foyer of her house, and Caitlin had discovered she’d never had a better sex partner. On the second night, he told her he loved the extra weight in her breasts and hips, and she discovered that she loved him.
On the third night, he had flown her to Vegas, where they were married at a drive through chapel as a prelude to a night of debauchery Caitlin never could have imagined. And in the three months since then, Richard and Caitlin had settled down to married life together, working long hours at their jobs and making love late into the night. They’d had no chance for a honeymoon, and Caitlin was exhausted. She had been looking forward to her birthday weekend, largely for the promise of sleep that it held.
Caitlin finished her routine, hopped in the shower, shaved everything that needed shaving (per Richard’s preferences), and hopped back out. She even stared at herself in the mirror for a good five minutes, checking out the tone of her belly. She might be heavier, but she was still sexy; her waist dipped in deeply before flaring out to good hips. Womanly hips, the romance novels she used to read liked to say. And her skin was creamy and smooth… Caitlin rubbed lotion into her skin, then went to look at the clock.
The clock said 9:15.
Caitlin contemplated the sealed envelope again. “Open at 10AM.” She shivered. The mere use of the word “open” made her pussy ache for Richard’s cock. Where was he? How had he gotten up without waking her?
Caitlin went to her closet and found a new outfit there–a shortish, flippy black skirt, black tights and pumps, a black, satin demi-cup bra and a fitted pink linen shirt. Simple, business casual attire, something like what she would wear to work. Hardly the outfit of high adventure. Caitlin colored herself perplexed.
She dressed, did her make-up, and at 9:57, she picked up the envelope and sat down on the edge of the bed to wait for the clock numbers to turn.
They were the longest three minutes of her life so far.
At 10AM on the nose, Caitlin opened the envelope.
“Happy birthday, my love,” said the note inside. “If you want your present, you will have to solve a series of riddles and overcome a series of obstacles. Your obedience and resolve will be tested. Remember that each clue holder speaks and acts with my authority, and do not be afraid. At the end, however, I promise that the present will be well worth opening.
“If you get lost or confused, call this number.
“Your first clue: her lips are pink, her house is blue, and she holds your second clue.”
Caitlin’s heart tripped, and suddenly her mouth was dry.
What in hell was Richard up to?
Lara, Caitlin’s coworker, had bought a blue house three blocks away just a few months ago. Richard and Lara had never really hit it off, she thought, but maybe…
It was a lovely spring day, so Caitlin decided to walk the three blocks to Lara’s house. If it looked like she was home, maybe then she’d ring the doorbell. If not… well, then, she’d misinterpreted Richard’s note. She checked the phone number printed at the bottom of the paper–she didn’t recognize it.
Lara’s car was in the driveway when Caitlin walked up, so she rang the doorbell. The door opened to reveal an out of breath Lara in pink satin pajamas that revealed the outline of her wide nipples. Caitlin stared at her coworker, wide-eyed. Lara wore soft, glossy pink lipstick, and was staring back.
“Happy birthday, Caitlin!” Lara said breathlessly, then grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.
“Hi,” Caitlin said, nervous and unable to keep from darting glances at the outline of Lara’s nipples. Her breasts were fantastic. She’d never seen her coworker without a bra before…
Caitlin snapped her attention back to reality. Lara was smiling at her, and holding out another envelope. “Open after you get to first base,” it read.
Caitlin took the envelope curiously and stared at it. “First base?” she asked. “Am I supposed to head over to the softball field?”
“No, silly,” Lara said, and then suddenly she had taken Caitlin into her arms and had joined Caitlin’s lips to her own.
Caitlin froze as her lips were engulfed in intense, wet softness; then Lara’s hands came around her neck and Lara’s tongue slid into her mouth, and Caitlin responded eagerly with a groan.
The kiss was hot and slick, and over all too soon. Caitlin was barely able to take in all the sensations before Lara had pulled back and was looking into her eyes.
Caitlin’s hand flew to her lips. “Wha–?”
“First base, Caitlin,” Lara said huskily. “Happy birthday. I’ve wanted to give you that for a long time.”
“Oh, yeah,” Lara said. “Thank your husband for me.” She grinned.
“How did you–”
“That last work party,” Lara said, blushing. “I was tipsy and he caught me staring at your tits, and it wasn’t hard to suss out that we share similar admiration for…” she was staring at Caitlin’s breasts.
“I see,” Caitlin said weakly.
“Was that your first girl kiss?” Lara asked.
“Yes,” Caitlin said.
Lara sidled closer. “Do you think that was your last?”
“I don’t know…”
Lara’s arms were around her again, and this time, Caitlin kissed back with appreciation, enjoying the softness of Lara’s lips, the lushness of the female body pressed into her own. Caitlin felt a spurt of sudden moistness between her legs, and she clutched Lara as though drowning.
It wasn’t like kissing a man, not at all, but it was exactly the way Caitlin had imagined kissing would be, when she was a girl. Not only that, it was the sort of kiss Caitlin suspected she gave. Not necessarily the kind of kiss she’d want all the time, but–
“Sorry,” Lara said, breaking away. “Really, really sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” Caitlin said, and stared at her coworker, bemused.
Lara stared back.
“Well?” Lara asked.
“You got to first base,” Lara pointed out.
“True.” She opened the envelope, and read out loud. “Number two: Columbus sailed the ocean blue in…” She paused and looked up. “Fourteen-hundred and ninety-two.” Caitlin paled and blushed alternately for a moment.
“What is it?” Lara asked.
“Jon and Tess live at 1492 Wedgwood Lane.”
Lara smiled. “Lucky dogs,” she said.
Caitlin shook her head. “Oh, no. That can’t be… I mean, the first base thing has to be a fluke. Richard wouldn’t…”
“Oh, yes, Richard would,” Lara said with twitching lips. Caitlin blushed more deeply.
Lara saw her off with a cheery wave, though every step of Caitlin’s walk home filled her with anxiety. At home, she climbed into her car and drove over to Wedgwood Lane. Only her extreme conviction that Jon and Tess would never do anything to hurt each other kept her going.
Jon answered the door, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a sleepy smile and a pair of flannel sleep pants. He looked incredibly sexy, unshaven and tousled, while leaning casually against the door jamb.
“Jon?” Caitlin said nervously. “Is Tess at home?”
He nodded. “Come on in.”
“I don’t mean to bother you,” Caitlin said. “It’s just… look, did Richard say anything to you about a scavenger hunt? Is there a clue here?”
“Why don’t you come on out back,” Jon said. “I’m sure Tess wants to give you the clue herself.”
Caitlin sighed, and followed Jon through to the back–
–where Tess was frolicking naked in the hot tub.
Frolicking seemed like such a silly word Caitlin thought disjointedly, until you actually saw someone doing it.
Tess leaped up out of the water, sunlight glinting off of every taut curve of her body, then fell back in. Water sloshed over the edge of the hot tub. Caitlin stared, intimidated by Tess’s tanned, toned body.
“Happy birthday, Caitlin!” Tess said, exuberant and seemingly ignorant of Caitlin’s discomfort. “Jon, give our girl a birthday kiss.”
Caitlin half turned to look at Jon, and he was, to her surprise, right behind her. “Relax,” he whispered, grinning and holding the coffee cup away from their bodies to avoid spilling. He bent down to give her a slow, sensual brush across the lips. “You look very sexy today,” he said when he was done.
“Uh, thank you,” Caitlin stammered.
“Come here,” Tess said, leaning out over the edge of the hot tub. Her nipples puckered in the cool air. Caitlin walked over.
Tess’s wet, bromide-flavored lips met hers, and for the second time in her life and in an hour, both, Caitlin found herself kissing a woman. What made this kiss different was the fact that Jon was standing directly behind Caitlin. She felt the brush of his hands on the side of her body, and steeled herself to feel them touch her breasts; she rather suspected Jon and Tess represented second base at this point. But Jon’s hands moved to Tess’s breasts instead, where he began massaging and kneading his wife’s wet flesh, and squeezing her nipples.
Tess moaned into Caitlin’s mouth.
Then Jon’s strong hands took Caitlin’s in his own, and guided them to Tess’s nipples.
“She’s got great tits, doesn’t she?” Jon murmured, low in Caitlin’s ear, as Caitlin’s fingers fumbled on Tess’s breasts, with Jon’s still guiding her. His fingers intertwined with hers, and together they twirled Tess’s left nipple. Underneath Caitlin and Jon’s fingers, Tess’s nipple swelled. Tess groaned deeply, and stabbed her tongue into Caitlin’s mouth.
“Mm-hm,” Caitlin responded, then moaned in shock when Jon’s fingers rubbed over her own nipples, through the fabrics of her shirt and bra. Where he touched seemed directly connected to the slit between her legs, and she ached there, suddenly, and felt a small squeeze of moisture.
Oh, my God, Caitlin thought. What has Richard gotten me into?
Tess eventually broke off the kiss, and slid away from Caitlin’s hands, back into the tub. “It’s too cold,” she said, shivering.
Jon said, for Caitlin’s ear only, “You’ve no idea how long…” then backed away as well.
Tess luxuriated in the water for a moment, grinning up at Caitlin. “You should see your face. You didn’t know we’re swingers, did you?”
“How did Richard know?” Caitlin blurted.
Tess shrugged. “He plays golf with Jon. Jon likes to talk.”
Caitlin looked over at Jon, who now sat on the patio furniture easily, and as though a giant erection were not poking up the fabric of his sleep pants.
“Don’t worry,” Tess said. “We don’t expect anything out of you in the future. But if you ever want to join us…” she trailed off, giggled, and swished water around herself.
Jon just nodded.
“My clue?” Caitlin asked plaintively.
“Sure!” Jon reached under the newspaper spread on the patio table, and handed her another envelope, which, sure enough, said “Open after reaching second base.”
The clue read: “If you’ve made it this far, know the true tests are coming. Go see the fellow who takes care of our plumbing.”
“Caitlin?” Tess asked. “Are you okay?”
Caitlin’s hands were suddenly icy cold, and she pressed them to her heated cheeks in an attempt to reach a temperature balance.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. She made her good-byes and got into her car.
She rested her head on the steering wheel for a long moment.
“Why him, Richard?” she asked the air. “And how did you know?”
She considered calling the emergency number.
She considered giving up and going home.
Instead, trembling, she inserted the key in the ignition, started the car, and drove across town.
Outside Aaron’s apartment, she sat in the car for another long moment. It was about half an hour until noon.
“You could just go home,” she assured herself.
Instead, she went to the door.
Aaron opened the door wearing the same twisted smile she felt on her own face.
“Welcome,” he said, and gestured her inside.
She walked in. Looked around. She hadn’t seen it since Sharon had left.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “You can just give me the clue and I’ll leave.”
“What clue?” he asked.
She glared at him.
“Oh, this clue,” he said, and waved an envelope at her, in such a way she couldn’t read it. He held it out to her, writing-side down, and looked into her eyes.
She stared back for a long moment, and wondered why either of them had ever really considered it. Was glad that they had not gone through with it. He scared her, on some fundamental level.
“You should leave,” Aaron said. “That’s probably for the best.”
Caitlin took the envelope, read the outside. “Demi Moore did it, and just so we’re clear, it’s that movie you hated, not the one you love,” it said.
Striptease, Caitlin thought, and looked up at Aaron with a puzzled look fixed on her face.
“So…” Caitlin said, not sure what to do next.
“I’m pretty sure he’s not asking you to shave your head.”
“What, exactly, did Richard say I would do? And what are you supposed to…”
Aaron was staring at her with the serious intensity that had made her back away from actually having a full-blown fling with him a few years back. Any other man would be grinning in anticipation, but the coldness of Aaron’s gray eyes was startling.
He didn’t answer her.
Caitlin tried again.
“My first message said that all the clue holders speak and act with Richard’s authority,” Caitlin said.
“You’re supposed to dance for me,” Aaron said. “Give me a lap dance. Until I come.” He said it baldly, without delicacy or prevarication, with the same restrained authority that had once caused her to lie awake fantasizing about him every night.
“I see,” Caitlin said, biting her lip.
“I missed that,” he said. “Watching you bite your lip, the way you do when you have a decision to make.”
“I don’t want to dance for you,” she blurted.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression a mask of idle curiosity–but his eyes had darkened, were cloudy with anger, maybe disappointment.
“I want to blow you,” she said.
This surprised him, almost as much as it surprised her. But once said, she couldn’t take it back… She dropped to her knees before him. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, and for a moment, he didn’t seem inclined to help or interfere, either way. She looked up, and saw he stood there, eyes fixed on the middle distance, jaw clenched.
She gave up with the belt briefly, desperate to touch him as she hadn’t been able to during all their years of flirtation and friendship, and rubbed him through the thickness of his jeans. She could feel the hard column throbbing there, and she rubbed her cheek against it. His hand dropped gently to her hair and caressed an errant strand, tucking it back, and she made a soft, open-mouthed moan when he touched her.
“Fuck it,” he said hoarsely, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants. His cock sprang free, and he shoved it blindly into her mouth. Caitlin began to work on it, laving it with her tongue, sucking on it, drawing on it, moaning as she did so, and pulling moans from him.
His fingers tightened in her hair, and he was holding her head still and fucking into her mouth, then, everything came to a crashing halt as he froze and came in her mouth. She swallowed convulsively, then kept him in her mouth until his cock went limp and began to shrink.
Then he was kneeling next to her, arms around her, crying into her hair. “Oh, god, Caitlin, I love you, I love you…”
Two years ago, this had been her fondest wish.
That was no longer the case.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, pulling gently away from him. She stood up, straightened her skirt.
“Sorry?” he asked.
“I have to go.”
“We aren’t done here,” he said harshly, and his tears were gone as quickly as he had come.
Caitlin reached down and picked up the envelope; when she stood again, he was beside her, reaching for her wrist. Because she had loved him, and because he still loved her, and because her husband had sent her here, she didn’t pull away.
Once he had her wrist, he clamped down on it like a vise. He outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds, easily, and he was well-muscled; he picked her up with the other arm and carried her into his bedroom.
“What are you doing?” she cried. “Let me go.”
His bed was neatly made, and there were restraints at every corner.
“No, Aaron. No. No!”
“Yes,” he said, and tied each of her limbs down with ruthless efficiency.
“Aaron. No, you can’t do this! I don’t want this!”
“I speak and act with the authority of your husband,” he said flatly, tying a blindfold over her eyes.
“That’s not how he meant it!” she cried.
Caitlin considered screaming. When she felt cold metal at the waistband of her tights, she considered it very seriously indeed. Just before he cut the tights from her legs, he whispered, “Don’t scream, Caitlin.”
“I can smell your thoughts, just like I can smell your cunt.” He cut into the waistband of the tights and tore the fabric down one leg, then the other. Then, something cold and very narrow nudged between her pussy lips, sliding through her wetness upward to press briefly against her clit. The scissors! Her heart raced. Oh, god was he going to cut her? Hurt her? Take some bizarre revenge on her for how things had gone two years ago?
The doorbell rang. The scissors went away from her pussy; footsteps receded and the bedroom door opened and closed.
Caitlin strained to hear, but there was nothing.
How could Richard have known? How could Richard do this to her? How could Aaron do this to her, for that matter? And how in hell did it come up between Aaron and Richard to do something like this to her? And, well, John and Tess and Lara, too? What the fuck did Richard say about her when she wasn’t around?
Caitlin pushed against the restraints, testing for weakness, and found none. She tried rubbing her head against the bed in order to loosen the blindfold, but that didn’t work, either.
The bedroom door opened. Footsteps approached slowly. The bed dipped beneath the weight of Aaron joining her. He crawled up over her body, unbuttoning clothes as he went. When he started kissing her neck, she inhaled sharply.
And then relaxed.
It was Richard. The aftershave. The aftershave! That gave it away. Aaron never wore any scents at all, and Richard’s extremely expensive, spicy aftershave was the last thing Aaron would own, let alone wear. Caitlin nearly wept with relief.
This must be part of the hunt, she decided. It was insane, all that had gone before, totally, totally insane, but part and parcel of Richard’s domination habit, and really, nothing too untoward had come of it. The conspiracy between Aaron and Richard was still worrisome, and the taste of Aaron’s semen was still in her mouth–but, all things considered, it was just a blow job. It’s not like she could get pregnant from a blow job. Wouldn’t that just be the heights of irony? Being sent on a sexual scavenger hunt by one’s husband, and then catching pregnant from one of the friends he’d roped into the situation–
But it was all right now, because this was Richard, and the scavenger hunt was over. Caitlin had the brief thrill of wondering if Aaron were still in the apartment–but Richard’s intense nibbling on her neck was certainly taking her mind off the many, many questions the day had brought.
The nibbling moved down, across her clavicle to her breast. Richard latched on to her nipple with white-hot intensity, sucking hard until she cried out with mixed pain and pleasure. When she couldn’t bear it any longer, he moved on, nibbling across tummy and hip and down to inner thigh. Her hips rose off the bed with offering herself to him, ready to accept that familiar mouth onto her pussy. But that didn’t happen. The bed rocked with shifting weight, and suddenly, Richard was inside of her.
But it wasn’t Richard.
The mouth had fooled her. The nibbling wasn’t a usual Richard tactic, but it hadn’t seemed out of place. Combined with the aftershave, she’d been fooled. But the cock–you couldn’t fake the cock. The cock was definitely not Richard’s; it was longer and thinner than Richard’s, and when she’d been sucking it just a few moments before, she’d noted the difference.
“Aaron!” she begged. “Aaron, no, Aaron!!” But he was pistoning into her, ploughing his cock into her wet, wet pussy, and ignoring her protests. He clamped his mouth down on hers, muffling any further protests.
The cock swept smoothly in and out; he wasn’t hurting her. But tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes nonetheless, and she shook with rage. She was furious–angry at Richard for putting her in this position, angry at Aaron for taking advantage of her trust, and her husband’s trust.
Aaron, god damn him, had let go of her mouth and changed angles. Now he slid his hands underneath her ass and had lifted her hips, so that he ground his pelvis against her clit every time he rammed his cock home. The pressure was building, and Caitlin was going to come in spite of herself. Aaron grunted with his exertions now, no longer silent since she’d figured out his identity. “Come on, Caitlin, baby, come for me, little girl,” he crooned. And, god damn him, she came, her pussy clenching weakly on his thin cock. It was obviously strong enough though; Aaron let out his breath and his semen with one long, protracted groan. “Ahhhh…. you fuck so good, Caitlin.”
Caitlin caught her breath in a sob.
“Get off me,” she said, even as her body contracted with another spasm. Aaron pushed deeper into her, grinding her into the mattress, and took one of her nipples between his teeth, sucking hard. Caitlin cried out with the pain, though the stimulation shook another spasm from her.
Aaron released her nipple with a loud sucking pop. “You played me hot and cold for six months, you little bitch,” he said, not without affection. “I’m just taking what I feel I’m owed. I don’t think even Richard would begrudge me this, not considering what he’s had you doing all day.”
“You don’t know anything about him,” Caitlin said fiercely.
Aaron pulled out of her in one smooth stroke. He got off the bed and untied her blindfold. She lay staring up at him, dazed.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and ran one hand down his wet, slimy cock. He wiped the moisture he collected messily across her lips and cheek. Then he pulled out a digital camera and snapped a couple pictures.
“Blackmail?” she asked.
“Just for my personal collection,” he said, and got dressed in front of her. He stuffed the camera in his jeans pocket, released one of her wrists from the restraints, and headed for the door. “I’m leaving you here, and you could take all kinds of petty revenge on me if you tried,” he said. “But if you’re smart, I think you’ll just take the chance to leave.”
He left the room, and shortly afterwards, she heard the apartment door close.
Caitlin fumblingly released her other arm from the restraints, then released her feet. She looked at the mess of her tights, and simply left them on the bed in the long ragged lines as Aaron had cut them from her. A gift to remember her by. From him, she had the semen leaking down her thigh.
She rezipped her skirt, rehooked her bra and rebuttoned her shirt. She frowned when she realized one of the buttons had popped off. Dammit. She threw open Aaron’s closet, and stared at the array of t-shirts. Then–there. His one white button-down Oxford shirt. That would be his price, then. She stripped her pink shirt off and left it in a ball on his closet floor. She put on Aaron’s shirt and wandered into the bathroom in a daze.
Really, how could he have done this to her?
How could Richard have let this happen?
Tremblingly, she took the comb off the bathroom sink and worked it through her hair. When that was orderly again, she hunted out a clean washcloth, and let hot water run over it, then washed her face where Aaron had left the mixed slime of her wetness and his. Then, spraddling her legs, she touched the washcloth to her pussy, and nearly jumped–she was so sensitive right now. Delicately, she wiped the wetness away, though she knew it was futile. More would leak out over the next few hours.
She threw the washcloth into the sink in a wad. There was no point in rinsing it; it would still smell of sex–her sex. And she didn’t want to do any real favors for Aaron–though she was taking the implied threat seriously. She wouldn’t destroy anything in his apartment.
She wandered back into his bedroom, stared at the rumpled bedclothes and the wet mark on them. She turned away, and began opening drawers at random, not even sure what she was looking for. The bedside table held an interesting array of condoms, lube, a butt-plug or two… she stared at this array for a moment, her pussy spasming secretly between her legs when she saw the shiny red of the butt-plug.
Damn him, he’d had condoms, and he hadn’t used them with her.
She wondered into his small office, and found a folder labeled “to be filed.” On top of it was the print-out of an email.
From Richard. To Aaron. The subject: “Caitlin’s Birthday Surprise.” All it mentioned was the date and time Aaron was to expect her. The details had been worked out in another message, she guessed.
Caitlin crumpled up the message and tossed it away, and opened the “to be filed” folder. A bank statement. Nothing interesting there. Beneath that, a recent suite of medical tests, all negative.
She was relieved. And then wondered why Aaron had tested himself.
Had he been planning this? No, he couldn’t have. Richard had ordered up a lap dance, nothing more, and he’d had no reason to expect she’d just drop to her knees and offer to blow him.
And yet, the restraints had been on the bed.
She found her pumps in the living room, and with them, the clue, the one that said, “Demi Moore did it, and just so we’re clear, it’s that movie you hated, not the one you love.”
She opened it up, desperately wishing she’d stuck with the striptease. There was no saying that Aaron wouldn’t have raped her anyway–
Rape. Such an ugly word.
“Aaron raped me,” she said out loud, and the words sounded so strange together–Aaron–raped–me–and the suddenly the memory of Aaron fucking her was overwhelming–the memory of lying spread-eagled and tied down, his cock piercing her again and again, and the grinding of his pelvis into her clit, the complete lack of control, and the way she had sobbed out loud when she had come. And before that, the delicious taste of Aaron’s cock in her mouth, the feeling as he nudged the back of her throat with his cockhead and–
And Aaron had planned it. Aaron had been tested because he didn’t want to actually hurt her… Not permanently, anyway. Caitlin shivered, wondering if Aaron had been just waiting for an opportunity, any opportunity, for the last two years…
Caitlin closed her eyes for a moment. She could just go home. Right now. And Richard would take her into his arms and–
She considered, then, all the immense trouble he had gone to for her. He would be so disappointed if she hated this… If he knew what had happened to her.
She looked at the next clue.
“You must be hungry. There’s a meal waiting at our favorite restaurant.”
That wasn’t terribly difficult to figure out. Caitlin left Aaron’s apartment without a backwards glance, and got into her car, where she reapplied her lipstick and some pressed powder. She drove across town to The Almond Tree, the restaurant Richard had taken her to on their second date. They had sat together in the back corner for hours, talking while Richard’s hand roamed under her skirt and across her breast. The dim, romantic lighting made such public indecencies possible.
At the restaurant, the hostess took Caitlin back immediately to their favorite table, and Richard was there, waiting. Caitlin tried to fall into his arms, but he merely barked, “Sit down.”
“Hands at your sides.”
Caitlin grasped the edges of her chair, and Richard lounged back and looked gratified by her obedience.
She had been on the verge of a breakdown when she first saw him; her next impulse had been to get angry and throw things. But he had caught her off guard, and now she simply stared at him, mute and uncertain.
“Good,” he said. “You shouldn’t speak until you’re spoken to, but I didn’t even have to tell you.” He moved his chair closer to her now, tilted his head to whisper in her ear, and flicked one thumbnail across her nipple. She gasped slightly. “Your nipples are practically raw, aren’t they?” he asked. “Someone sucked them purple, I bet. Was it Tess? Jon?” She shook her head at each name. “Aaron?”
She hesitated and nodded.
“You probably think what I had you do with Aaron is unconscionable,” Richard said. “But it was just payback, sweetheart. You’re such a cocktease. You always have been. You led Aaron on, didn’t you? Flirted, chatted online, went on chaste dates to the movies and didn’t even hold hands, all the while telling him the most outrageous things over email… Did you ever explain to him why you ended it before it even really began?”
Caitlin stared at him. Good lord, did he know Aaron had fucked her? And how did he know about her abortive fling with Aaron? What had Aaron been telling him? Had it been collusion between the two of them? Was the lap dance just a set-up for rape?
Then she realized: her diaries. Richard had been reading her diaries. She clamped her lips shut on her sudden fury.
“Sad thing is, you knew you were teasing him! But you couldn’t stop. Because you wanted him. You wanted him to do unspeakable things to you. But when you saw him in person, you got scared. You were afraid. Afraid to ask for those unspeakable things. Afraid to lose control. Afraid to submit. And, most importantly, you didn’t want to ask. You wanted a man who could read you. Figure out that you were ready to be taken. Aaron, poor man, didn’t quite know how to get you to spread your legs, though.”
Caitlin shook her head at this interpretation, even though it was the truth.
“Don’t shake your head at me,” Richard said, and nipped her ear sharply. She cried out. “Now, cocktease, you have the man you need. One who won’t let you get away with shit like that.” He was ruthless, relentless, and yet Caitlin realized–it was all just a game to him. At the end of this long day, he intended to fuck her, to reassert his dominion over her, a dominion he never once doubted was in jeopardy, nor doubted that he had put into jeopardy.
Caitlin didn’t know how to respond. She wriggled slightly in her chair, and decided to whimper.
“You make such lovely little whimpers, my dear,” Richard said indulgently, and slid his chair back to his side of the table. A waiter showed up moments later with a flank steak salad, which he put in front of Caitlin. “Eat up,” Richard said, after dismissing the waiter.
Caitlin ate. She was starving. She chewed and swallowed with methodical concentration. When she finished, she drank down her water, and then sat again with her hands clenching the sides of the chair.
“Very good,” Richard said. “You’ve come a long way, Caitlin. Let’s see how much further you can go.” From his breast pocket, he pulled another envelope.
“Open at 1:30PM,” it read.
“You’ve got a few minutes,” Richard said. He slid his chair next to hers, and his hand crept up her inner thigh. Caitlin clenched her legs together. “When did you take your tights off?” he asked. “You just couldn’t bear to put them back on after your lap dance?” He slid his other hand along her thigh until he got in a position to wrench her legs apart.
“No!” Caitlin said in a horrified whisper.
His hand crept between her legs, and he slid two strong fingers into her slit. “Let’s see how wet you are,” he whispered throatily.
Caitlin’s clit came clamoring to life, and she moaned, trying to rub against his hand. “Very slippery,” he said quietly, pulling his fingers from her. He held his hand in front of him and stared. “This isn’t just you, is it.”
“He r-raped me,” Caitlin said.
Richard’s face was immediately dark, disastrously angry. “Rape.”
“I didn’t want it!”
She was silent.
“What did you do, Caitlin?” he asked in a low voice.
“I–I sucked his cock.” Richard looked at the wet fingers he still held out in front of her, then reached over and smeared the wetness on her lips. She closed her eyes. Just like Aaron, she thought.
“I should have known,” Richard said roughly. “You’re probably thinking this is my fault.” He was quiet for a long moment. “It is my fault.”
She opened her eyes again, but didn’t look up at him. She noticed he had an erection.
“Are you ok?” he asked at length.
“He didn’t hurt me. And he–had had tests. They were all negative.”
“He didn’t hurt you. But you said no?”
“I said–” Caitlin tried to remember. Had she said no? Not until after he was inside her. “I thought he was you,” she whispered. “I was blindfolded, and he was wearing your aftershave.”
“So, it wasn’t so much rape as deception,” Richard said.
“I knew it wasn’t you when he–”
“Penetrated you,” Richard finished flatly. Caitlin blushed, and felt a small pulse of heat between her thighs at his bald words.
“Yes,” Caitlin whispered. Richard’s erection was still firmly outlined in his khakis. Caitlin bit her lip, thinking, How does this get him hard, and keep him hard? My violation is sexy to him–?
Richard was silent for a long moment. “You’re going to finish the hunt,” he said at length. “Only, the rules are going to change a little.”
“What?” Caitlin asked. “I was–”
“And you liked it,” Richard said, and she realized he was angry–aroused, but angry. She sat still, frightened, wondering what he was going to do to her now. He stood up, tapped the clue in front of her and said, “Sit still until 1:30. I’ll know if you peek.”
He got up and left.
Caitlin sat very still and tried not to cry. She did allow herself to check her watch–after she was sure at least ten minutes had passed. Five minutes more. Well, that was easy enough. She had a lot to think about. But strangely, for the next five minutes, she didn’t find herself thinking so much about the awfulness, the horror, the things she thought, somehow, she should be thinking about. She thought instead about the deep anger and the raging erection Richard had had when he left. And she thought about the way Aaron had made her come.
She was grateful when 1:30 came, and she didn’t have to worry if she was thinking the right things.
She opened the envelope.
“Return my books to the library. Then check the bulletin boards there.”
That was a bit surprising–more straightforward than the other clues, mostly. When Caitlin returned to her car, she found, indeed, a stack of library books in the passenger seat. She drove to the library, feeling the cum continuing to slip out of her pussy, and wondered if she was leaving a wet spot on her seat.
At the stoplight, she found herself rocking back and forth, feeling her pussy lips slide against each other as she did so. God, if she wasn’t careful, she might come right here in the car…
At the library, she checked her makeup in the vanity mirror before getting out of the car. Richard had smeared her lipstick, and the edges of the cum on her lips had dried slightly white, but otherwise she looked alright. Maybe a little glassy-eyed, like a woman who had been seriously fucked earlier in the day, and hadn’t yet recovered.
She put the books in the outside drop, then went in to look at the bulletin boards. Under personal messages: “Caitlin. Find the first book you ever came for.”
She blushed while reading it, and wondered if anyone realized that that message was for her. Then she realized–if anyone saw that message, they’d just assume it was not meant in a sexual way. And if anyone did, they’d take it down.
Either way, she didn’t have to claim it. She left it on the board.
Caitlin went upstairs to fiction. B–Blume, Judy. There. Wifey. She plucked it off the shelf, paged through it, and yes, right at the scene she had been reading when she masturbated to her first orgasm, a slip of paper fell out. She picked up the note: it simply held a call number.
She sighed, went back to the stairs and climbed up to non-fiction, and found the range with the call number she was looking for. At the end of the aisle, Jon sat in a study carrel, stroking his cock and grinning at her.
As though she had no choice, Caitlin found herself drawn down the aisle towards Jon. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. They stood facing each other for a long moment.
“This was to have been the third base clue,” Jon said, handing her the envelope. Indeed, it read, “You’ll have to blow your way to third base.” “But I’m told the rules have changed. Are you ready?”
Caitlin bit her lip. So, Richard had intended for her to give someone a blow job today, she had just jumped the gun a little.
“Where’s Tess?” she asked.
Jon’s grin was sly. “I’m told she’s fucking your husband as we speak.”
Caitlin paled, and her heart sank. Was this payback? Or part of the original plan? Well, fuck Richard. Fuck–
She dropped to her knees and took Jon’s cock into her mouth. He was completely shaved, and his cock was oddly shaped–oval-shaped, maybe, wider one way than the other. Like sucking on a ribbon, she thought, moving on him eagerly. He smelled good–clean and masculine.
Jon groaned softly and reached out to touch her hair. He worked the buttons at her throat and above her breasts–fortunately, Aaron’s shirt was big enough that Jon didn’t have to undo much of it in order to pull it down and spill her breasts into his hands. He began tugging the raw nipples, causing Caitlin to whine in her throat as she drew on his cock, but he didn’t stop until she was almost writhing with pain and ecstasy.
“So good,” he said at length, almost explosively, as he began to thrust upward into her mouth. He grabbed her head to hold it in place. “So good!” Then he pulled her mouth off his cock, and held her away from him for a moment, looking into her eyes. “I need you to arch your back for me, Caitlin,” he said.
She stared at him, then obeyed. He pushed her back down on his cock. “I’m just not ready to come yet, so go slow. Okay, now. Push your ass out. Push it back. Spread your legs a little. Show your pussy, like you want it to be fucked.”
Puzzled, she did all these things, while maintaining a slow rhythm on his cock.
“Gooooood,” he said, drawing the word out hoarsely and closing his eyes. “Oh, god, you’re good. Okay. Stay still.”
And behind her, she heard a zipper.
Caitlin tried to pull away, to turn around and look, but Jon’s grip on her head suddenly became like iron. Caitlin obediently kept sucking his dick, but her concentration wasn’t on that anymore. Her skirt was flipped up over her back, and slowly, two cold fingers slid along her pussy, which was open to the world thanks to Jon’s directions; the shock of the cold on her clit made her jump and moan, and she began to tremble as the fingers slid up and down, up and down, from anus to clit and back again.
Jon’s left hand stayed on her head, but his right was straying down to her breast again. “Your tits are so beautiful,” Jon murmured. “I fucking loved sharing them with Tess today.”
Behind Caitlin, she felt a hand on either side of her pussy lips, holding them open now, as a cock suddenly drove inside. Caitlin moaned into the cock in her mouth, and closed her eyes.
“Sweet little bitch, so wet,” someone said from behind her, and the voice was familiar, though she couldn’t place it.
“Sloppy seconds, actually,” Jon said. Caitlin drew on his cock furiously, and his commentary died off with a wheezing moan. The cock penetrating her from behind was large, larger than she had ever had–and as of right now, she had doubled her number of lifetime sexual partners. Her cunt had never felt so full and it seemed to cling to this cock as it pumped in and out of her.
The cock behind her slammed all the way in, bottoming out against her cervix, and Caitlin heard herself make a high-pitched whine. Jon pushed viciously forward, driving his cock deep into her throat and cutting off her voice. “No noises from you,” he said sternly.
The hands of the man behind her dug deeply into her hips as he increased his tempo. “Ungh,” he chanted, a series of grunts. “Ungh, ungh, ungh, ungggh.”
Caitlin whined again, and Jon pushed into her throat again in retaliation. The cock behind her glided in and out in tandem with the cock her mouth, and Caitlin couldn’t stop whining except when Jon’s cock got in the way–she wanted, needed, craved someone to touch her clit. She was never going to come this way–she was just going to grow ever more excited without going over the edge, if someone didn’t touch her fucking clit! She felt like a ripe, red berry had come to fruition between her legs, and she just–
“Ahhhhh!” Jon cried, and she felt the pulsing against her tongue just before her throat filled with semen. She pulled back, coughing and sputtering, trying to swallow, but Jon wasn’t done coming, and fluid leaked down her chin. He regained possession quickly, and pulled her face towards his crotch again. “Clean it up,” he said. “My buddy here isn’t done reaming your cunt.”
The man behind her pulled out completely, leaving her gasping and her pussy clenching empty air.
“I said, clean it up,” Jon said, and pushed her head towards the member in question. She began to lick. Over her, Jon asked the other man, “Why’d you stop?”
“I really want to make this last,” the man said, panting. “I’ve wanted to fuck this girl since she moved in across the street, but never thought I’d get the chance until I saw that bastard Smith fuckin’ her in her foyer with the door wide open.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened in shock. Mr. Lanners! Mr. Lanners, her neighbor, that dirty old man, was–
Mr. Lanners’ cock slid into her again. “Fuck it,” he said. “I’m going to come.” He rammed his penis home with a flurry of thrusts, at the end of which he, shuddering, collapsed on top of her.
She hadn’t been allowed to come.
Jon stood up, leaving her to bear Mr. Lanners’ weight on her own. Slowly, Mr. Lanners pushed her to the floor, while his cock shrank inside of her. “Hardly seems fair,” he murmured in her ear. “That this is all I get when I’ve been dreaming of you for so long.” He nuzzled behind her ear, and she cringed away from the snuffling, wet kiss he placed there. “I’ll be thinking of this whenever I see you from now on.” He pulled out of her and got up.
Jon tucked himself away and pulled the clue out of hiding and tossed it onto her prone body.
“You better get up and get out of here before the library monitors find you,” he said. “Or maybe that’s what you want.”
He walked away.
Caitlin slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her skirt settled down around her waist, and when she turned around, there was no one in the aisle with her.
She bent to pick up the clue, feeling woozy. She straightened carefully and read the note on the front again. Well, she’d certainly blown her way to third base. And past.
Her clit throbbed painfully, and she considered going into the bathroom to take care of things herself.
She desperately hoped this day would end soon. Or end never. One of the two, and she wasn’t sure which.
The message inside read: “You always wondered what that creepy old mansion on Fifth Street was. Come find out.”
Caitlin stumbled back out to her car.
Aaron was waiting; his car was parked right next to hers, and he was leaning against his passenger door, arms crossed.
Caitlin stopped, staring, then crossed the parking lot to unlock her door.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said shakily.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said.
“Sorry?” she said with a laugh that was half sob. He hadn’t moved away from his car, but he was staring at her with such intensity she didn’t feel like she could move.
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
“Fifth Street,” she said, unmindfully obedient at first, then cursing herself.
“Ah,” he said, as though it made sense to him. “Take a detour. Come with me.”
“Why? Where to?”
He stared at her hungrily. “You backed off so quickly two years ago, that I… I figured I must have scared you.”
“You did,” Caitlin said. “You seemed to want me so much. Too much.”
“And Richard didn’t scare you?”
“Richard scared me, but he…” She shrugged. “Why do you want me to come with you?”
“I want to show you. What I wanted.”
“Didn’t you show me that today?” she asked with an edge to her voice.
He looked at her. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“You popped a button off mine,” she said.
“Come with me?” he asked.
She bit her lip, trying to decide.
“I promise, no…” He hesitated.
“No fucking,” she said. “No exchanges of bodily fluid of any kind. You don’t get a second chance. I’ll call the cops this time.”
She could see he wanted to point out that she really didn’t have a leg to stand on with the cops, but she didn’t care. “Agreed,” he said. “Come with me now?”
She considered. “No, you come with me. To my house.” Where I’m safe, she added mentally, though she couldn’t think why she was any safer there.
She popped the automatic locks, and he got into the passenger seat of her car. They drove in silence to her house, while Mr. Lanners’ cum leaked into the seat beneath her.
This is one fucked up day, she thought. Then, crazily, I’m thirty. Today I kissed two women, blew two men and fucked two.
She looked at Aaron’s rough workmen’s fingers splayed across his knee. The mere sight of them caused her pussy to contract slightly, as though a remnant of an orgasm had overcome her. Those fingers have been in my pussy, she thought distantly. Then, I’m taking this man who raped me into my house..
At her house, she got out of the car and walked up the front steps, and entered the foyer. She stood for a long moment staring at the walls. Aaron came in behind her, and tried to edge around her without touching her. She turned to face him, accusatorily, and he flinched. “Okay, show me what you were going to show me.”
In a low voice he said, “If I were your husband, I would punish you for not doing exactly as I ordered you.”
Caitlin stared at him. He kicked the door shut behind them, and sat down on the boot bench. He patted one knee. “Come here.”
Confused, Caitlin came closer to him. He smacked his knee, loudly, and Caitlin jumped.
“Closer!” he ordered, and she stepped closer. “Bend over.”
“What?” she asked.
He took her hand and pulled her down sharply, so she went sprawling across his knees. “Lift your skirt.”
Hands trembling, staring at the tiles on the floor of her foyer, she reached behind her for the edge of her skirt and lifted it. Aaron ran one hand up her thigh and across her naked ass, and she gasped. “Aaron…” she began.
Sharply, he smacked the globe of her ass with one cupped hand. A loud crack filled the air, and Caitlin cried out. He began to talk, emphasizing words and spanking her with each one, slowly spreading each blow so her entire ass was covered in the hot, delicate pain.
“You just drop” (smack) “to your knees” (smack) “and blow some guy” (smack) “who’s been fucking in love” (smack) “with you for years?” (smack)
Caitlin began to cry, “Aaron, stop, no, I’m sorry, please don’t…”
“Shut up.” He cracked her on the ass again. “You put yourself in danger. You put your marriage in danger. And you disobeyed orders to do so.” He gave her a volley of small spanks, which she writhed and twisted to get away from, and then, just when she had contorted herself to a position with her legs spread and feet against the floor, ready to move to avoid his next blow–he slid two fingers between her pussy lips and began finger fucking her.
“Aaron, we agreed–you agreed!”
“No bodily fluids,” Aaron said, inserting a third finger and then widening them. She stifled a moan, and tried not to move against him. “But you…” he slid the fingers out of her and along her wet crack to the swollen clitoris, stroking it, and this time she couldn’t hide her reaction. “You need to come. The last one in here didn’t let you, did he?”
“No–oh,” she said in a broken moan, uncertain if she was answering his question or protesting. His fingers broke into a vee and slid along either side of her clit, grazing the tender, swollen nub once, twice, three times. Caitlin came hard, clenching her eyes shut and clutching her hands into fists. “Oh–oh! Aaron! Oh!”
“Excellent,” Aaron said softly, then lifted her so she sat upright, across his legs on his lap. He dipped his head and kissed her, and then slid his fingers into her sheath again. She opened her mouth passively for him when he stabbed at her lips with his tongue. He still smelled like Richard, god damn him.
“Aaron,” she protested, pulling back from his mouth, but he drove it down onto hers again and kissed her hotly. He hooked his fingers up inside her slit, seeming to search for something–and then, there–he found the G-spot, and pressed it strongly. Her whole body went rigid.
Aaron’s mouth broke from hers. “Good–good, little pussy, good little girl,” he said. “Come for me one more time today. Show me how good you are.”
She came again, gasping and clasping his hand with her thighs.
“Good girl,” he said into her ear, and held her for a long moment, two fingers still inside of her.
When she had come back to herself, he said, “When you think back on this day, I hope you’ll remember the good parts.” He pulled his fingers from her, and smeared them across her lips again. Reflexively, her tongue darted out to collect the moisture. Aaron smiled.
Shakily, Caitlin asked, “And. That’s what you like to do? Spank girls?”
“That’s the least of it, really,” he said. “And I’m sure Richard has spanked you, hasn’t he?”
Caitlin didn’t answer, nor did she climb off his lap. Beneath her thighs, she could feel his hard prick pulse occasionally. “Do you want your shirt back?” she asked instead.
“Yes,” he said instantly. “Give it to me.”
Surprised, she unbuttoned the shirt. When she had it undone and began to work on rolling down the sleeves, she realized he was grinning.
“You’re good at following orders,” he said. “Better than I expected of you, anyway.” He leaned forward and mouthed her nipple through the satin of her bra, and she let him. With his strangely dexterous lips, he managed to work the fabric of her bra down, exposing her nipple. He licked it, then paused as though listening rapturously as her breathing turned to gasps. “And you’ve got gorgeous breasts.”
She surprised herself by leaning into his mouth. He obliged by sucking on her swollen, aching nipple. Good lord, would it never stop? She could come again, right now, if he just commanded it.
She surprised herself by twisting around on his lap and straddling him, her skirt still bunched around her waist. She felt so open, sitting with her wet, wet pussy facing the hard lump in his jeans. She grasped his shoulders and moved herself against him.
“What are you doing?” he whispered. “You said…”
“No bodily fluids,” she said. “Close enough to it, anyway.” Her words came out tremulously, and not a little scared. She grasped his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “No penetration. Okay?”
He answered by taking her mouth with his.
Her hands were busy with the fly of his jeans, and after a mad, fumbling moment, his cock was out. She pushed it up, so it stood to erect attention between them. Then, using his shoulders for leverage, she pulled herself forward, engulfing his member with her sopping labia, laying the tip of his penis alongside the nub of her clit.
They groaned together, their voices joining almost in harmony.
Caitlin closed her eyes. Still using his shoulders for purchase, she moved herself against him, sliding her pussy up and down, yet trying not to vary the pressure any. She held her arms stiffly against him to keep the distance even, concentrating on that distance, focusing on it, so that she didn’t come again right away.
“You’re biting your lip,” he said in a nearly conversational tone.
She realized it was true. She let go of her lip and opened her eyes.
“Is that a problem?” she asked, not succeeding in faking a casual tone as well as he had.
“No,” he said. “It’s sexy. Almost as sexy as you climbing onto my lap and rubbing yourself against me of your own free will.”
“You like that, then,” she said, smiling slightly, then closed her eyes again as she brought herself incrementally closer, her pussy lips clinging more to his stiff cock, and continued to move herself up and down his shaft.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I like it, Caitlin.”
She shivered when he spoke her name, and moved in a bit closer. Her arms trembled with the effort of maintaining the distance and the rhythm of the movement, and he must have felt it through his shoulders, because he said, “Put your arms around my neck.” And his hands crept around her ass, cool against her burning flesh, and began moving her against him.
“Okay,” she whispered back, and crossed her arms behind his neck. Then, “Closer.”
He moved her fractionally closer, and she wriggled more and more urgently
“Closer!” she said again, undulating wildly against him now, and suddenly, she was coming, crying out wordless, nonsense syllables against his throat. He pressed his cock tight against her, riding out the orgasm until she stilled. When she came back to the moment, she realized she could feel the faint, throbbing movement of his cock. She began to move against him again, this time to bring him off, murmuring “Ow… ow…” as he rubbed against her much used and over-sensitive flesh.
Suddenly, his fingers tightened on her ass, and he was lifting her, pulling her up and forward, and driving his cock into her slit.
“No!” she cried out, shocked, outraged by this second betrayal.
“You. Don’t. Give the orders,” he told her through clenched teeth, and brought her down hard on his cock. The head butted against her cervix, and she cried out again.
“Ow!” she whimpered. She tried to straighten her arms and pull away from him, but with her ass in his hands, she had no control over the movement. He lifted her and let her fall, again and again, stroking furiously into her.
“It hurts you,” he growled, “but you’ll take it from me. You’ll like it. You’ll come. You’ll come, biting your lip and trying not to scream my name.” And he understood her body, god damn him, he understood it perfectly, and applied just the right amount of pressure to her ass, so that her clit was touched in just the right way–and she came again, howling in anger.
“Good,” he grunted, and pulled her off of him. He pushed her back so he could hold his deeply pink cock, shining with the slick of her juices, in his fist. He pumped his fist up, once, twice, and came on the neatly cropped patch of hair on her pussy. He groaned, releasing his cock and slumping against the backrest of the boot bench, eyes closed, while she stared down at his cock. It lay against her, still spasming and ejecting delicate-looking, nearly translucent loads of semen.
Before she had a chance to even really react, he was cold again, stern and distant as though his penis were not still dribbling cum into her pubic hair. “Get up,” he said harshly, releasing her ass.
She regained her feet with a brief buckle in the knees, and he made no move to catch her, only busily tucked his wet cock back into his jeans. When he finished his ministrations there, he looked up at her with icy eyes.
“Go to your husband,” he said. “Let him finish out his idiotic plan. He’ll think he’s won you back, but he won’t have. You’ll dream of me for weeks, and one night, you will to show up at my door begging me to fuck you, to spank you, to own you.”
“No–” she began, but he stood up, stepped close, menacing her with his height and breadth.
“That’s right,” he said in a low voice. “The answer is no. Because you already are mine.” He had a painful, parting squeeze of her left buttock before walking out her front door. And then he was gone.