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Lucius

July 8th, 2009

bondageAs she stood staring out the glassless window, she watched the dust cloud in the distance grow.  She knew that he was fishtailing on purpose in his shiny new ’09 Mustang.  Standard.  Yellow with black leather seats.  His pride and joy.  She grinned as she left the bedroom and made her way downstairs.

Slipping into a satin robe that hung on a nail, she threw open the door and squinted against the afternoon sun.  The construction site beside the highway caught her attention for just a moment before she turned her cobalt eyes back to the approaching muscle car.  She squeezed her thighs together as she imagined the one and only time he had allowed her behind the wheel.

“We’re gonna hafta get you a clunker to learn stick, first, darlin’.  You’re grindin’ all my gears.  Gon’ ruin the transmission an’ I only had ‘er a month.”  She snickered at his lame attempt at a southern accent, but when he took her up into the hills, the sheer power of that machine was enough to have her begging to mount him on the side of the road.

He skidded to a halt in front of her like a nineteen year old cowpoke with his first pick-up truck.  She laughed as he fished in the backseat for the ten gallon hat he’d picked up a couple days ago on the road.  She knew when he swung his legs out there would be rattler-skin boots on his feet.  She wondered if he had bought that belt buckle he was drooling over.

He clambered out of the car with all the grace of a bull in a china shop and grinned as she walked down the steps to meet him.  She tore her eyes away from his face when a thorn grabbed at her robe.

“See? I told you we should have cleared these first.”

“You’ll survive.  You naked under that robe?”

She smiled up at him. “Of course, Lucius.”

“That’s my girl.  Get on up to that attic.”

“Yes, Lucius.”

She had swept the broken glass from every room of every floor.  The kitchen and basement were going to have to be completely redone because of the fire.  The walls all needed to be re-insulated and the sheet rock needed to be replaced.  But the den and the stairs were in impeccable condition minus the missing guardrail and lose step.  It was a nice night, so they’d chosen to sleep there convinced the erected fence would keep the stoners and homeless at bay.

The woman flicked the silk from her shoulders and gently returned it to the nail before pushing the door closed behind them.  She climbed the Victorian staircase to the second floor and then the stairs to the attic.  Once there, she had to crawl.

She paused a moment on her hands and knees to let her eyes adjust.

“Move.”  his gruff voice rumbled from behind her.

“Yes, Lucius.”  she whispered as she crawled toward the place he had bolted the d-rings to the floor.

“On your back.”

A shudder went through her body as she froze for a split second.  The rough tip of a rattan cane poked at the opening of her ass and she jerked instinctively away.  She moved quickly to her place to avoid feeling it again and Lucius chuckled as she scrambled.

She laid down on her back and held her arms and legs out to the sides.

“Not tonight, slut.”  All she could see was his form.

She felt his hands grasp various parts of her body and position her this way and that.  Whenever he got a limb where he wanted it, he’d lock a cuff to it and the closest d-ring.  When he was finished, he had perfect access to her ass and pussy.

She felt the rough tip of the cane at the opening of her ass again.  She jerked reflexively.  A deep, sinister laugh ripped from his throat and she whimpered softly.  The cane slid easily into the hole and Lucius began to fuck her with it.

“I like you like this, slut.”

She began to writhe against the slow movement of the cane in her ass when suddenly he ripped it out and brought it down swiftly against the backs of her thighs.  She screamed.  She hadn’t screamed in a long time but she wasn’t expecting this pain.

Lucius brought the cane down in varying, painful strokes, giving her sometimes mere seconds and others a full five minutes to process the pain.  Until finally, he stopped.

She thought he would begin to fuck her now.  To touch each of the welts and caress them and tell her how good she was.  She laid trembling anticipating his fingers on her flesh.  Probing at the marks.  Teasing the pain.  But instead, he began to fuck her ass with the cane again.

The fingers of his left hand fumbled in his shirt pocket for something.  When he fished it out, she saw it was one of the clamps he loved so much.  One straight from his tool box meant to hold wood in place.

“Hold that for me, slut.”  Lucius pushed the cane deep into her ass, pulling a gasp from her lungs, and left it there while he spread her pussy lips and attached the clamp to her bulging clitoris.  He plunged two fingers into her glistening slit and said, “Well, slut, it would seem you like this treatment.”

She could hear the grin in his voice and moaned softly.

With one hand, Lucius manipulated the clamp.  With the other, he fucked her ass with the cane.  And her face flushed crimson in the dark as she laid there being played with like a toy.

Lucius began to whip her again.  This time harder and faster.  Each new stroke of the cane crisscrossing fresh welts on the backs of her thighs and ass.  He whipped her pussy lips, carefully, so as not to knock off the clamp, and then tapped the clamp with the cane.  She cried out just as they heard a door somewhere in the house creak open.

“Lucius?”

“It’s just the wind.”

“The doors were all shut and latched, Lucius.  We made sure of it.”

“Would you like me to go check?”

“Yes, please.”

Lucius reached into his back pocket and retrieved a handkerchief.  “Can’t have you giving yourself away, now, can I?” And with that, he stuffed the kerchief into her mouth.

“Okay.  Don’t move.”  He chuckled at his own joke and she groaned at the humiliation of being left like that while Lucius chased away some stranger.

The stairs groaned in protest as Lucius went down to confront the intruder.

“No, I’m serious.  Come and see.”  She heard Lucius at the bottom of the stairs.  But who was he talking to?

“You said you found her like that?”  A male voice she’d never heard before.

“Yep.  She’s fat but you can’t complain about a free piece of ass.”

“No.  No you can’t.”  The unknown voice sounded nervous but there were definitely two pairs of feet coming up the attic stairs.

“Wait till you see her.  What a fucking whore!  Whoever was with her put some kinda clamp on her clit, man.  And she’s got fresh welts all over her ass and thighs.  And wait till you see what’s sticking out of her ass.  We’re gonna have fun.”

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