Just A Piece of Ass

Same soft skin, same smell, musky, stronger than before, Candice smell not perfume, christ was I hard, I got out of my jacked and tee shirt and dropped my pants, my shoes wouldn't come off without undoing the laces, so I had to bend down and she started laughing.

"You can't even get that right!" she laughed, but then I had a hold of her again, she was on the bed, naked, and I spread her legs, real wide, and in the orange streetlight's reflected glow I sunk my orange member into her soft orange pussy just like old times.

"John!" she protested, "Use a rubber for christ's sake, please!"

"You don't get it do you?" I snapped, "I don't fucking want to do this, I have to do this, ok?"

Except it wasn't like old times, I wasn't trying to shove a half hard tool down a tight slit, oh no she'd had a half dozen cocks in there since eight o'clock I guessed, no she was just right, slippery, and nice, hell she could maybe squeeze me if she wanted to be real nice, but I was hard and I was in, ball deep as they say.

"John, what's got into you?" she asked, "You're so hard, yet?" she paused, "Is it Cyalis?"

"Fucking vitamin deficiency," I told her, "I was fucking anaemic, can you believe that?"

"Oh shit!" she said, "Do you mean?"

"Yes, there wasn't anyone else." I told her, "I tried to get fit when you left, nearly collapsed when I tried a half marathon," I explained, "They did tests and the doc said vitamin deficiency and I'll have to take supplements for ever."

"Oh shit!" she said, "Oh fucking christ." I waited for her to say sorry, but she just gasped, "John," she said, "Oh fuck," and she had her arms around me as we fucked the longest we ever had.

"You're lying right?" she said as I began thrusting against her.

"Sure," I lied.

"Phew, oh you had me worried for a moment," she admitted, "But John, you don't have anything to prove."

"Of course I fucking do," I insisted, "I need to make you fucking cum, scream the place down like Harry used to make you do, yelp like Phil made you yelp, or."

"You heard?" she gasped, "You knew?" I kissed her shoulder.

"Yeah, my heart died with every scream," I said, "Not literally you understand," she laughed, her teeth smiling orange in the street lights reflected glow, it fucked me up, hearing her laugh at my jokes as I fucked her.

"You want to finish up?" she asked, "Maybe get a pizza, talk about old times, take me home?" she asked.

I stopped humping, "You think this is some weird date?" I asked, "Oh god no, I bought you lady, this is your home now ok?"

"John, this is too weird," she said, but I was still inside her, still hard, straining hard, not just hard, really hard, and she felt just perfect, I lowered my chest onto her tits and cradled her face in my hands so I could rape her mouth with my tongue, "Nnngg," she protested but my tongue was behind her teeth and as she tried to bite me I started to pump that jism.

"Nngggg," she protested, but the cum was spreading, seeping, gushing getting everywhere soaking her fertile womb, she struggled to throw me off but it wouldn't have mattered she was too late, she was well and truly fucked.

"Christ!" she gasped as I let her up, "We better get to an all night chemist," she said anxiously, "Morning after pill?"

"Your problem, deal with it," I suggested as I pulled out of her, "But you're going nowhere."

She stared at me, but she couldn't see what was in the shadows beneath the bed, I don't think she realised what it was as I held it up, she just sat up trying to make it out, but it was a simple dog collar, a collar for my bitch and it was around her neck before she knew, and secured by a tiny padlock next to the buckle.

"John!" she protested, "Don't be stupid!"

"Like I said," I replied, "I bought you, deal with it!"

I ran my finger round under the collar and made sure it wasn't too tight, "John, please!" she protested, it felt good, real good, better than a wedding ring, that meant partnership, this was ownership, I could do what I want when I want, and the feel of that leather made me want.

I laid her on her back again.

"Don't be stupid," she said, but it was ok, I was hard again, "You want anal?" she said hopefully.

"No," I confirmed, and once again I spread her legs.

"Look, you'll get a heart attack John, just slow down, take it easy ok, I'll stay all night, don't." she said, and then she sighed, "John," she said, "That feels really nice just be gentle, don't get too excited ok?"

"It's hardly going to make you scream the place down is it?" I exclaimed.

"I suppose not," she agreed, "But there's nothing to prove ok?"

"Of course there is, I need to know I can give you a good time." I insisted.

"John, these days a good time is Lark Rise to Candle Ford on TV, I've had enough cocks to last a lifetime and they don't do a lot for me." she looked delicious in that orange light.

"Oh god you aren't are you," she said as I started humping harder, "John!" she wailed, "John, ah, look oh, oh fuck you bastard, look, John," she gasped, "Ohhhhhhh, christ, John, oh fucking hell," she actually had tears in her eyes, "Please!" she said, "That's it, right there John, please, that's good."

"You're good," I told her, "At faking."

"Fuck you ohhhhhhh," she whimpered, "Oh fucking hell John, fucking hell."

I slowed my rhythm, "Fuck you to hell John Meadows," she said, "Why couldn't you fuck like that when we were together?"

"I'm not finshed yet," I assured her, "Oh no you cost me a lot of money, and I want every pennies worth."

"John, you don't own me, I only work, Ohhh thats good," she said, "Mmmmm," an she went quiet.

I made sure she was really enjoying it you know holding back really concentrating and then I just let fly when she was maybe faking her orgasm or maybe not, but then I was just about beat so I rolled off her and pulled the bed covers over me and turned on my side to sleep.

"John, you don't own me," she said.

"So you don't owe those guys two thousand pounds?" I queried.

"Oh, right," she agreed, "How did you know?"

"I have friends," I agreed, "What was it back street abortion." I asked her.

"No," she said surprisingly calmly, "No I wouldn't, no it was a gallery, I borrowed for an exhibition, you know, for my work, a gallery, and." she paused, I waited, "It flopped, no one came I didn't sell anything, well, nothing worth anything, you know, and then a friend."

"Some friend," I offered.

"She said it was a good way to make some pin money," she said, "I work Monday to Thursdays, in pub still, lunch times."

"And the friend?" I asked.

"She modelled for me." Candice explained.

"Right, a she, I see." I said tongue in cheek.

"And you?" she asked, "Still doing landscapes?"

"Anything the punters will pay for," I agreed, "You'd be surprised!" oh was she going to be surprised.

"I need to be at work at ten on Monday." she said, "You don't own me," it was a brave if foolish statement under the circumstances.

I must have drifted off to sleep, because I woke in darkness, the street lights went out at one a.m. and when I finally found my watch it was nearly four.

"You want supper or breakfast?" I asked.

"Sleep," she muttered, and yawned.

It didn't make much difference what she wanted, really, I just had some cold ham, an Atkins sandwich, no bread, and a coffee and then I slept through to eleven.

She was gone, she had dressed and had been through my pockets and drawers looking for keys, and she was getting inventive, rooting through my paints and brushes when I found her.

"Nope!" I told her.

"John, it's" she said as she pretended to look at a picture of a bank I had been working on, "It's crap John."

"It's a commission," I explained.

"Like a bloody photograph," she said churlishly.

"Well you could take a photograph," I agreed, "If they demolished the Woolworth building so you could get back far enough."

"Right," she agreed, "So did you graduate?" she asked.

"Just, and you?" I asked although I knew full well she had just thrown it all away when she stormed out and left me, and the final year of her art degree behind. She shook her head.

"I thought," she said, yes she believed the lecturers, she believed she had talent, that people would pay through the nose for her art, while I just worked out what people wanted and painted it, demand and supply, they demand I supply, simple.

But first I had to get ready for the evening, she still had the collar on, she thought it was a symbol, but it was a tool.

She could see the easels set up with my work now, work in progress mainly, now the daylight flooded in from the northlight roof, she could see my works in progress, I just flitted from one to another, that's why I needed the space, and she could see the various finished paintings in frames which adorned the walls, "John so many works, so little originality, so little flair," she said, it would have wounded me once, but not now.

"And whats the wall about?" she asked as she saw my masterpiece for the first time, a simple room ten feet long and six feet deep, with doors at each end, built in reclaimed brick at the opposite end to the office and against the blank wall separating my unit from the place next door, flat roofed rather than reaching to the ceiling ten feet or more above, and windowless except the long wall had five holes in it, one large, four small.

"It's a work," I explained, "There's a LCD TV beyond, I thought I'd take photos through the holes."

"Great, so you steal my ideas, you did take some notice of my work then?" she sneered, oh yes, I took notice of her ideas, great interest in fact.

"Yes!" I agreed, "It time to get ready," I walked away from her, she followed.

"What for," she demanded.

"You'll see!" I explained, she followed, towards the stairs, then back again towards the art work.

"What for?" she demanded again, as I stopped by a massive old iron hook screwed to the wall beside an old tall white painted wooden cupboard, and lifted down the painting which hung from it, "What for?" she demanded again, so I took hold of her by the shoulders.

"You'll see!" I promised as I gripped her upper arms and lifted her bodily, lifted her a foot off the floor so her collar grazed the hook on the back wall and then down again looping the collar over that big u shaped hook, don't get me wrong she didn't hang from it, she could just stand there, she couldn't do anything else, really, but she couldn't rise up enough to escape from it.

"John!" she protested, "John!" she screamed, but the plan was in train now, all the pieces were in place including the straps and ball gag in the bag just by the cupboard, and the eyelets screwed into the wall, she just stared, she had all her weight on her feet, she wasn't hanging, but she realised she couldn't raise up enough to get free, she was quite shocked, it came as a complete surprise. I slipped her jacket off her shoulders first, slipped it down her arms and let it fall, she just stared I 'm sure she thought I was going to screw her, just lift her legs and spread them and take her weight on my cock, but nice as that would be she was way wide of the mark.

"John," she said anxiously as I tossed her jacket aside and took a wrist cuff from my bag and slipped it around her left wrist she didn't get it, or the right, or when I clipped her wrists to the wall,

"John!" she cried in alarm as I pulled her skirt and panties down and looped a leather cuff around her left ankle, she should have fought then, maybe, it was too late to escape but she could still have broken my nose or something, but I clipped her left leg to the wall and it was all over, I had two hands, two strong hands to hold her one leg so when she finally tried to kick out I was too strong, I just cuffed that right leg and clipped its short chain the the wall, there was some slack, she could get comfortable, I'm not a sadist or anything, BDSM is fine, it doesn't float my boat but it sure as hell pays well.

Pictures I mean, photographs and in paint, paint from photographs, "John!" she was frightened now, so I found a craft knife and cut her bra off and kissed her breast.

"It's ok baby, you have to suffer for your art." I told her, and then I waited for ages before she allowed me to gag her with a nice new red leather ball gag with a black elasticated strap.

It was perfect, so I fetched the cupboard, it was just a nondescript tatty white wooden shell, with the doors locked permanently, the whole thing lined with glass fibre to deaden the sounds within and I carried it across and lifted it over her, it stood six inches higher than her and it fitted over her perfectly, slipping over the brackets I had installed along with the hook and eyes, and then I lifted it back off.

"Don't be frightened, you'll be safe in there." I assured her.

I had some trestle tables, candelabra', white cloths, all prepared, I set them out for a viewing, she understood or thought she did, she knew she was the exhibit, but she didn't really understand, she was too abstract for that, impractical, she had talent, undoubtedly, but if she thought I was going to unveil her as a work of art by lifting a cupboard off her or opening the doors then, well she was wrong.

I was on schedule, I showered and dressed, and waited, chatted to Candice, a one sided conversation admittedly as she was gagged, I told her about my work, my commissions, graduation day, everything, almost and then the doorbell sounded.

I answered the buzz with the speaker and said I would be down, but I put the cupboard over her first and sprinkled dust around it, and then the caterers came, they set the tables, an old friend Hugo Dumas and two pretty girls, working yards from the bound gagged Candice, one girl even tried the cupboard doors as she looked for candles, which I had already put out and then they went, promising to clear away in the morning.

"It's time." I told Candice, I slipped her Leather skirt and white panties from her ankles and slipped the chains from the wall so I could free it from her legs, then I clipped her ankles together, she could kick me, if she wished, but she would snap her neck if she tried and slipped, so she didn't try, she just stared in disbelief as I unclipped her wrists from the wall and clipped them together and then I lifted her up and off the hook and set her down on the ground.

She didn't understand, not a thing, even as I lifted her in a fire mans lift over my shoulder and carried her to the wall.

I wasn't sure about the holes, and she was even less sure, and this bit was dangerous, for her that is, "Head hole, two leg holes, two arm holes," I explained, "Simple."

But it wasn't, it needed three people really, and there was just me, but I had a plan, and a very solid trolley, which I fetched from where it had supported a large picture of part of Norfolk, a Landscape, and put it against the wall, it was just about at waist height, and I set it in line with the leg holes.

She stared, she shivered with fear, terror maybe, but the chains were through the leg holes, or a chain as it looped round the back, and before she could react she was on the trolley and her ankles cuffs clipped to the chain.

I checked the rubber pads at the bottom of the holes, she would need them, they would be supporting her weight for the evening, and after releasing the clip securing her ankles together I pushed the trolley firmly against the wall and tried to push her foot in a hole.

She strugged so I went round the wall and tugged on the chain, she struggled but sure enough a black stiletto heeled foot emerged and as soon as the ankle was through I attached a very short chain to stop her pulling it back and I tugged her other foot through, the thigh pads were still in place in the bottom of the holes, so I went to check she was ok, she was angry, but fine, so I pushed her further in, so far that her tummy was against the wall and then she realised why there was a strap through the arm holes, it was part of a racing car seat belt once, with a quick release buckle which I undid and pushed her head through the big hole.

She stopped me, her arms were too strong, "I'll push the trolley away," I explained, "You can't stop yourself from falling, unless you put your arms through the hole."

She heard the trolley move as I nudged it with my foot, and she quickly stopped resisting, "You wouldn't?" she said incredulously, but fear made her grab for the only hand holds available the hand holes in the wall.

I hoped it all fitted, I guessed the dimensions from a BDSM gallery on the web, but that was a girl trapped in a wooden frame with planks, this was brick four and a half inches thick, lovingly built course by course by by a couple of so called builders a month or so before which was why it was a bit out of plumb and not quite straight, but it was nicely dried out now, hard and firm, immovable.

I left the trolley and passed the strap round her, before I went round the other side, through the door to her left, which could be bolted from the inside, but opened inwards against a spring with nothing to catch hold of to open it from inside, the other door could also be bolted and opened outwards with nothing on the outside to pull to open it, effectively a one way system.

She looked terrified, but I clipped the chains on her wrist cuffs to eyelets screwed on the walls and took a can of spray foam, the sort plumbers spray around pipes to seal them where they pass through walls, and sealed her arms to the holes.

She really panicked as her legs were sealed in place, the can said the stuff was safe, but she didn't know that, and finally her head,I used a rubber collar from a dry suit I think, one a mate ripped and threw away, but it went over her head and covered her neck then I tucked her hair up under a baseball cap and sealed her neck to the wall with foam.

"Ok," I asked, but she didn't answer, she had fainted I checked the cameras, three web cams, low res filming constantly and three digital cameras, all slaved to my computer and zeroed in on her, all recording crisp high resolution pictures direct to a huge remote hard drive, one every five seconds when I hit the toggle.

I went round to the other side of the wall, turned on the TV which faced her and watched as she woke, and as she looked up at me so I put the remote control in her left hand, It was obvious I had mis-calculated as she couldn't reach across to operate it but I decided with some tape I could tape it to her hand so she could do it with her thumb one handed.

Next with the TV volume way up I went outside and shut the door, you could barely hear it, so no one would hear her scream, and there were two little shelves to screw in place on the wall, one for condoms and lube, and one for tissues, oh and a felt tip pen, and the waste bin of course.

I turned the TV volume down, selected channel 3 and went to find my tool box, then I taped the remote to her hands and fixed the shelves and set out the lube and condoms and when it was done I stood on a chair and fiddled with the lap top computer hidden among the insulation on the roof of the room above Candice's head. I checked the images, they looked fine, it just needed me to tap "Enter," to begin recording.

My cell phone rang, "Meadows," I replied.

"You rang about a model?" the voice explained, "A special model, we have Francine this evening five feet three and."

"Ah, I said but I'm ok thanks, at least for today." I said as I shelved plan B, my back-up plan, in case it wasn't Candice at Kings Cross after all.

I put the cupboard over Candice next, and put the folding metal framed canvass screen ready. I turned on the discreet lighting and then washed my hands and face and changed into a clean shirt and clean blue jeans. I double checked everything was ready and waited for my guests, Harry, Phil, Steve, Johno from Uni, Jerimiah Blakeney, Algy Acort, Sol Friedman, all invited on the pretext that there was a showing of an exciting new discovery's new work.