A long overdue custom request that now gets to see the light of day. Enjoy! 😀
THE TAMING
By Suikoden
California, summer 2003…
The man known as Dante stood out on the decking enjoying the early evening breeze. He was nursing a glass of iced water and wearing a midnight blue single breasted suit with a white shirt and navy tie. He looked like a businessman who was winding down after a long week, which to all intents and purposes was exactly what he was.
There was no one around to see him but if there had been they would have seen, tanned athletic man in his late-30s with close-cropped black hair and slightly hooded eyes. It was a feature that excited some women, they felt it gave him an air of mystery and danger.
He loosened his tie and shirt collar and contemplated the phone call that had caused him to change his plans for the evening.
He had been on his way home, when a call had come in on his cellphone. Dante always carried two cellphones. The first was silver and was the phone on which he took calls from his work colleagues, clients, friends and family.
The second phone was black and was only ever set to vibrate. The call had come in on this particular phone.
He answered with a word. “Dante.”
“Dante, darling, I am so glad I caught you!” He smiled, recognising the Slavic intonations of Belladonna.
“Belladonna, how wonderful to hear from you. To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”
“A novice,” she gushed. “A bad, bad girl. She is a new initiate. Just last night she was given to a gentleman from Germany, a very important member. He merely wanted to discipline her, a little mild spanking with a hairbrush, and perhaps to play with her feet a little, paint her toenails.” She paused to let out an exasperated sigh.
Dante grinned to himself. He thought he knew the German in question and he was no fan of the man but rules were rules. He waited for her to continue.
“Such a bad girl! She punched this man in the face! She broke his nose. Can you imagine it? Never have I heard of anything like this!”
Dante bit his lip. He found the thought of this particular pompous Prussian getting knocked on his ass rather appealing. “Well that certainly sounds serious. I take it you are calling because you require my special services?”
“Yes, darling, yes. That would be wonderful. You seem to have such a way of instilling discipline in these wayward ones.”
“Well then,” Dante replied coolly, “your place or mine?”
“Can we bring her to you, darling? I know you like to have your own things around you for this sort of thing.”
“Ah you know me so well. See you in an hour?”
“Fabulous, I know you will be able to resolve this to everyone’s satisfaction.” Belladona’s tone sounded much brighter now.
“An hour then,” Dante replied. He clamshelled his cellphone shut. He would need time to prepare.
Le Cercle Noir was a discreet and exclusive society catering to the exploration of domination and submission in all their glorious forms.
Membership was not easy to come by. For one thing, there were no spectators. Much like at Fight Club, if it was your first time you had to play. You would be photographed and filmed of course and those images would be kept safe to ensure your discretion. The membership list of Le Cercle would have made a gossip columnist’s head spin so secrecy was all-important.
Dante considered himself a student of all that life had to offer and his membership of Le Cercle was just one aspect of that.
Inside the house, Dante heard the doorbell chime. He crossed the hardwood flooring in easy loping strides and opened the front door, giving Belladonna a theatrical bow.
“Dear lady, I am at your service.”
“Darling! You look wonderful.” Air kisses were exchanged
Belladonna stepped inside. Dante was just over six feet in height but in her spike-heeled boots Belladonna towered over him. She wore wraparound Christian Dior shades and had strong Slavic cheekbones. Her generous mouth was highlighted with a blood red lipstick and her honey blonde hair was cut in a severe bob that framed the striking contours of her face. Today she wore a formal charcoal jacket with nothing underneath and short skirt that clung to her sleek thighs.
“You look rather wonderful yourself.” Dante replied, eyeing her figure wolfishly.
A second figure plodded in behind her.
“Ah good evening, Sphinx.” Dante called out cheerily
As usual the Sphinx did not reply. He rarely spoke at the best of times.
The pale slab of an Englishman was tall and thickly muscled with bleached spiky hair. He wore his trademark black muscle shirt, jeans and unlaced jump boots. A studded leather cuff encircled one thick wrist and three surgical steel hoops punctured each earlobe.
The Sphinx was Belladonna’s public major domo and her private sub. He provided as an intimidating presence, should one be needed, in the rare event that a member stepped out of line at one of the Cercle’s gatherings.
Dante was more interested in the cargo the Sphinx carried almost absent-mindedly over his left shoulder. That would the recalcitrant novice. The woman was a wriggling bundle covered in a black silk shroud that was fastened with a drawstring above the head.
“Now let me guess,” Dante said, narrowing his eyes like a TV detective about to unmask the killer, “that would be the naughty little minx I am to discipline.”
“Of course,” Belladonna said. She folded her arms across her impressive chest and gestured sharply at the Sphinx with the point of her chin. “Put her down.”
The Sphinx did as he was told and Dante watched with interest as the bound woman tottered uncertainly. If he knew the preferences of Belladonna (and he certainly did) the woman would be gagged, her hands and elbows would be bound behind her and leather straps would be fastened above and below the knee and at the ankle.
“Well don’t keep a guy waiting,” Dante smiled, “let’s have a look at her.”
The Sphinx loosened the drawstring and the silk shroud dropped away, pooling at the bound woman’s feet.
“You know, she looks just like…” Dante mused. She didn’t just look like. She was. The corners of Dante’s mouth twisted up in a slight smile.
“That’s right, she is.” Belladonna gave him a sidelong look, “You see, darling, I wouldn’t just interrupt your Friday evening for anything.”
“Outstanding,” Dante breathed. “Has she been named yet?”
“Named? Yes,” Belladonna replied. “I have decided to name her Lorelei.”
“Lorelei?” Dante echoed, “As in the alluring, mythical siren whose seductive wiles lured German sailors to their doom?”
“The very same.” Belladonna sounded pleased with herself and her choice of name.
“Ha! Very appropriate, I approve. Lorelei she shall be.”
The novice named Lorelei stared right back at him, clearly unhappy about her current predicament.
He took a few seconds to appraise her properly. She was something to behold with long dark brown hair, a wide intelligent forehead, amazing cheekbones, strong jaw, large blue eyes and that oh-so-sensual mouth. Her body was lithe, strong and deliciously full-figured. With her wrists and elbows trussed tightly to the rear, her chest was thrust forward pleasingly, almost like an offering.
Dante raised an appreciative eyebrow. She was dressed in a very tight black T-shirt with capped sleeves. Her leather jeans looked very expensive and screamed Rodeo Drive whereas the chunky belt she wore with them looked like something she might have taken from a biker after kicking his ass.
As he had predicted, she was ball gagged, her full pink lips parted obscenely by a red ball.
There was a small gap between the hem of her T-shirt and the low-waist of her jeans exposing a strip of flat belly and a tattoo. Her legs looked strong and healthy in her snug leathers.
Dante sauntered over to her slowly, well aware of her suspicious and hostile glare.
He stroked his index finger lightly across the Latin inscription tattooed above her left hip. “What feeds me, destroys me. Intriguing.”
He stepped away. The tip of his forefinger seemed to sizzle in the knowledge that it had tasted the skin of one of the most desired and desirable women on the planet.
Dante raised his palms towards the Sphinx. “Is this any way to treat a lady? Remove her gag and her restraints.”
Belladonna interrupted, “Careful darling, this little pussy cat has claws.”
Dante grinned and gestured towards himself. “Hey, it’s me.”
The Sphinx unbuckled the red ball gag from Lorelei’s mouth. She gasped and licked her lips as the obstacle was removed but she knew enough to remain silent.
Dante watched as the ever-impassive Sphinx removed the rest of the young woman’s restraints. He knew she her profession required her to stay in excellent physical shape and he admired her toned litheness.
Finally she was free. She still hadn’t spoken but she glowered in Dante’s direction and rubbed circulation back into her wrists and elbows.
“See how obstinate she is,” Belladonna said with a shake of her head. “Do you think you can do anything with her?”
“I can but try.” Dante replied. He held Lorelei’s gaze with his own. She returned the look but eventually she had to blink and look away. He notched up a point on an imaginary scoreboard. Her first submission and the first step in gaining complete control.
Belladonna turned to her companion, “Come Sphinx, let us leave the novice with Master Dante. I have every faith she will be returned to us with a much better attitude.”
The Sphinx collected the restraints and ball gag and headed for the door.
“Darling, we shall return at midday tomorrow. That will give you all night to work.” The statuesque blonde brushed imaginary lint from her jacket.
Dante gave a short bow. “Then midday tomorrow it is. I stand or fall on my reputation.”
Belladonna and the Sphinx left, closing the door behind them.
Dante savoured the silence for a few seconds. Lorelei stood with her hands on her hips, weight resting on her left leg. She was waiting for him to say something. He rarely paid much attention to celebrities. His experience had taught him that bondage and discipline were great equalisers.
Celebrities were not uncommon in Le Cercle; they were always looking for that next kick, that next high. They rarely lasted long though, most were shocked that their media-endowed status afforded no special privileges within the society. This one was different though. He had heard interesting stories about her, that she liked to play and play rough. That she was ready to dish it out and take it too.
He decided it was time to break the silence.
“Alone at last.” It was an intentionally tacky line.
The actress rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“What, you don’t like men?” Dante asked innocently.
“Why, do you know any?” She retorted.
Dante’s laugh was a short sharp bark. He saluted her with his glass of water. “Touché. Now what’s this I hear about breaking the nose of one of our members? That’s very serious.”
“Yeah and you’re supposed to render discipline unto me or something.” She replied sarcastically, she made quote marks in the air with her fingers when she said the word, “discipline.”
“Oh I like you. You’re going to provide excellent sport. You might be wild and untamed now but I have every confidence I will break you and sort that attitude of yours out.”
“Dream on.” Lorelei replied. “Last night I broke some big German bastard’s nose. He got off lightly.”
Dante was taken with the way she held her body. She was completely aware of the effect she had on both men and women. Her eyes held a challenge that said she had been had before and she could be had again and that the challenge was well worth undertaking for the man who would try.
“I like your outfit.” He said. “ A friend once told me that fashion is just a ritual to attract a mate. How tight is your shirt to emphasise the shape of your body? How big is your belt buckle? How high are your boot heels?”
Lorelei gave a derisive little snort and started looking around the room.
“And here you are. I bet you think you’re pretty tough but I think you’ve been reading your own press. You don’t look like much to me.
“Oh yeah?” She grinned. “Well let’s see if you are as much of a man as you think you are.”
She came forward, bouncing lightly on her toes and bringing her hands up into a guard, tucking her chin.
Dante knew that as part of her preparation for a recent role she had undergone kickboxing and weapons training. She looked fit and strong. He was pleased to see that not every starlet was obsessed with yoga and minimalist macrobiotic diets.
“And what exactly do you intend to do now?” Dante said. He placed his empty glass on the coffee table and stood facing her, his arms relaxed by his side.
She smiled at him and shuffled forward.
Dante guessed she had done most of her training on pads and bags. A studio was unlikely to let its valuable star get into the ring with someone who would hit back. She had also been trained to exaggerate her movements a little so they would look better on screen. He had learnt to fight in gyms and dojos that smelled of sweat and tiger balm and where people didn’t pull their punches.
Her initial jab wasn’t bad. It would have stung if it had connected and possibly set up a right hand counter. But the punch did not connect. Dante slipped it, angling off to Lorelei’s left, his hands still held low.
“I heard you did some Thai boxing. That was more like Tae Bo.”
Lorelei’s face clouded and she charged forward whipping out a flurry of punches. Dante moved unhurriedly, slipping and parrying everything she threw.
“Your footwork isn’t bad but you telegraph everything.”
To her credit she kept up the onslaught, throwing a right roundhouse kick that he jammed with his upper arm. He swivelled and moved neatly behind her, slapping her hard on the butt.
“Told you I’d spank you.” He reminded her.
She stumbled forward and reached out to the couch to stop herself from sprawling. She spun to face him; white-hot rage pulsed off her in waves.
“See, it’s all about the footwork.” Dante shrugged. “Look, you are way out of your class here. I really don’t think you want to keep this up.”
She ignored him, raised her guard and edged forward. She had guts; he had to give her that. He reached up to his collar and casually unknotted his tie. It was a nice one from Jermyn Street in London and he was probably about to ruin it.
Lorelei looked at the length of material in Dante’s hand. What was he going to do, snap it like a whip and try and swat her ass again? Loser.
He might have some slick moves but she decided to give herself the satisfaction and at least breaking his nose before she gave up. She edged forward a little more cautiously this time, looking for an opening. Feint with a low kick and punch high, wipe that smile of his face.
She took a half step and was surprised as he surged forward. His instep slapped the outside of her thigh and he lightly slapped her cheeks before stepping away. She blinked as he moved away. Damn he was quick.
The hotheaded actress realised he was just letting her know how easily he could take her down. Nevertheless, pride dictated she go out swinging.
She charged, lashing out with a wild right hand. It would have scored big against an opponent who was inebriated or lacking experience. Dante was neither.
Stepping smoothly to the outside of the lunge, he slipped the looped end of his tie over her right wrist, cinched the loop tight and jerked hard. Lorelei lost her balance and Dante took advantage. He moved to the rear and yanked the captured wrist up and round her neck over her left shoulder.
He shoved Lorelei forward and into the back of the sofa. She bent over it at the waist. He stepped in close, pinning her there in an extremely suggestive position, his hips jammed against her shapely ass.
“Mm, this is kinda hot. Those leather pants feel good.” He teased.
“You fucker,” she growled, “I am going to take your goddamn head off! Let go of me!”
“Ever hear of hojo-jutsu?” Dante murmured, “it’s the ancient Japanese art of restraining an opponent using a cord or rope.”
He swiftly pushed the tie through the gap between her belt and leather jeans, pulled it through as far as he could, straining her arm further. He then yanked her left hand behind her back and secured this with the free end of the tie.
He backed off and the furious actress stood up and spun to face him. Her face was flushed with a mixture of exertion and shame and she was breathing hard. She wasn’t beaten though and still looked ready to fight on.
“You prick!” She snapped. Dante just grinned at her. He loved every second of this. The object of millions of men’s fantasies was in his grasp.
Despite being somewhat off-balance, Lorelei fired off a last desperate roundhouse kick which Dante easily avoided.
He stepped inside her range, dropped his hips and thrust her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“That’s enough out of you, let’s go and have a look at the playroom.”
He carried the squirming and cursing megastar down to the basement, humming to himself as he went.
Ah yes, he thought, this is going to be truly epic!
….
“Lorelei,” Dante whispered to himself. He rolled her name around his tongue, tasting it and all it implied.
She looked magnificent, a true work of art.
The stunning brunette was kneeling on a padded table. Her arms were stretched up overhead towards the ceiling where her wrists were buckled securely into chained leather cuffs.
A black silk blindfold covered her eyes and she was silenced with a German rubber pump-gag. Her ankles were strapped to the table meaning her insteps were laid flat on the table and her soles bared to the heavens.
It had not been easy getting her into that position and she had struggled like hell and cursed as he unzipped her boots and pulled them off. He had sat on the backs of her thighs while she squirmed beneath him. He had chuckled and taunted her whilst raising the cuffs of her jeans and drew down the zippers, exposing her supple muscular calves.
He had pulled her little black and red striped socks off with quick teasing tugs, revealing her pink soles inch by glorious inch. He had spent several long seconds just staring at her feet but he didn’t touch them yet. That would come later. The straps had gone over her ankles pretty easily after that and then it had been a matter of (regrettably) ruining his tie as he set about securing her wrists skyward.
His final, humiliating touch had been the addition of wireless headphone buds in her ears which were linked to an iPod playing what he called his “shoot me in the head mix” on a loop. It contained the cheesiest, nastiest pop he could find. Obvious efforts from Britney Spears and flash in the pan boybands lingered alongside car crash contributions from the likes of Milli Vanilli and Color Me Badd.
He had left her there for a while, her sensually muffled groans echoing in his ears. He had gone into his bedroom, stripped off his suit and taken a quick invigorating shower, alternating the water temperature between boiling hot and freezing cold.
Once showered, he had dressed in a pair of jeans and a black open necked cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
By the time he had wandered back down to his basement dungeon, his new prisoner had calmed down. He removed the headphones and the iPod, pulled off her blindfold and deflated and extracted the pump gag. He was kind enough to allow to her suck some water from a bottle of Evian, which she gulped down greedily. He enjoyed watching the play of muscles in her throat as she slaked her thirst.
Lorelei blinked at the light and looked around at her prison. Dark brickwork, leather, chains; crimson padding on immobilisation devices; all illuminated by thick white candles.
Dante dragged a chair along the ground, its legs scraping loudly across the concrete floor. He spun the back towards Lorelei’s pedestal and straddled the seat.
“So how are you settling in?” He asked casually. His forearms rested on the back of the chair.
She ignored him.
“Well that’s rich, a little while ago you couldn’t keep your mouth shut but now you don’t want to talk.”
“Fuck you.” She growled.
“That’s a commendable vocabulary you have at your disposal.”
She rewarded him with a roll of her wide blue eyes.
“Moving along, I suppose you know why you are here?”
“Yeah, yeah I broke the rules and you are supposed to instil some discipline into me.” She sounded bored.
“Correct. Do you know what that means?”
She shrugged as much as the chains would allow her. “Well that trick with the necktie was pretty good. Let me guess, some nawa-shibiri? Yeah, Japanese suspension bondage that’ll make my eyes water, maybe a little a submersion peril thrown in.”
Dante smiled and shook his head slowly.
“Well… that was a nice pump gag you used on me earlier. Long-term immobilisation in some kind of PVC sensory deprivation suit?”
Dante looked up and cocked his head to one side, as if he was really considering that one. Then he shook his head again.
Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Oh I am serious now, if all you can think of is spanking me until my ass glows apple red I am going to be so fucking disappointed.”
Dante laughed sharply and clapped his hands together once. “Sweetheart, you aren’t even close. I take a great deal of pride in my work and I go to great lengths to make sure everything is perfect.”
She looked a question at him. He stood up and started pacing around the room. All of my tools here, my “workbenches” are top of the range or custom designed to my exact specifications. I have spent thousands to ensure everything here is exactly as I want it.” He crossed to a shelf and took down a lacquered black wooden box. Then placed it on the padded surface in front of Lorelei’s knees.
“What’s in there?” She asked as Dante lovingly stroked the wooden case.
The metal clasps on the case were flipped open with dull metallic thunks. Dante reached inside and removed a plastic and rubber hairbrush.
“This cost me $3.98 from the pharmacy in town and it’s all I need to break you.”
Lorelei looked at him like he was nuts. “Really, perhaps you better hand me back to the blonde and her steroid gimp.” She was laughing as she said it. Dante laughed with her.
“Yeah, I guess this seems pretty funny, doesn’t it?” He stood behind her, reached up and began gently brushing her glossy dark hair. “Got a few tangles here,” he muttered, “that Sphinx, hell of a rigger but he doesn’t know much about female grooming.”
Lorelei looked over her shoulder. “So this is it? You’re going to brush my hair?” She sounded disappointed as if she had been looking forward to a challenge.
“Well, not exactly.” Dante replied. He put the hairbrush down. “Tell me how this feels?”
With no warning, his fingers reached around her body and began to vigorously probe her splendid rib cage. Lorelei yelped in shock and threw herself forward and backwards. Dante’s fingers stayed with her, probing and rubbing through her thin T-shirt. “Oh, well now it looks like someone’s a little ticklish.”
The stunning brunette jerked back and forth. She yelled at him to stop but she didn’t bleat hysterically like some of the women who had found themselves in the same position. Her exhortations were more in tune with a babysitter chastising a naughty charge that wanted to play cowboys and indians while she wanted to chat on the phone to her friends.
Dante was surprised, amused and intrigued all at the same time. It was as if she was laughing at him! Well no matter, he had established she was ticklish and for now that’s all he wanted to do.
He tickled her ribs for a few more seconds and then stopped. He had mounted the pedestal now and knelt behind Lorelei. His spoke quietly into her ear. “You like that, huh?”
She turned to look at him; her gaze travelled up and down, she appeared completely unconcerned by her predicament. “Yeah, s’fun.” She grinned.
“Fun?” Dante smiled. “Well if you like that, you’re gonna love this!”
All ten fingers, digging hard into her ribs, vibrating. Her head whipped back and he inhaled a heady mix of sweat, shampoo and excitement as her glossy mane stroked his face.
“Yeah, now this is fun.” Dante whispered, grinning like the Joker. “THIS is fun.”
Lorelei flexed and shook and laughed. She had a deep throaty laugh that was both womanly and sexy. It wasn’t a cute, girlish giggle.
He wasn’t even doing much at the moment, just poking and rubbing her ribs. Pretty standard stuff. Her reactions were very promising though. He had no doubt that once he really started to work her over he would have a hell of a time.
The beautiful star heard soft whispering taunts in her ears as her captor’s strong fingers ran free all over her ribs. She was starting to get a little pissed off now. The laughter was making her well-toned stomach muscles ache and she wanted a break.
“Cut it out, man. I SAID CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!” She yelled.
Dante cut it the fuck out. He was starting to get to her.
“What are you in fucking grade school? Tickling me? This is bullshit!” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. A lesser man would have freed her and burst into tears, desperate to win her favour. Dante was relishing the challenge ahead.
“What’s up? I thought you said it was fun?” He asked innocently.
“You’re pissing me off now.” She said. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breaths.
Incredible, Dante thought to himself. She’s securely bound in a bondage dungeon but she’s still carrying on as if she can leave whenever she wants.
“Ok then, we’ll stop the fun and get down to business.” Dante said. He picked up the hairbrush.
“You know why I like this one?” He held it up for Lorelei to see.
She shrugged with disinterest. “You like the way it makes you feel?”
“Hah, very droll.” He liked her immensely. “No, it took me ages to find the perfect tool. You see, too many bristles, the sensation becomes...muted, too few and it’s dispersed. You know what I mean?”
“Not really.” She muttered. She wasn’t even bothering to look at him.
“Well actions speak louder than words, let’s see if this helps.” He stepped behind her and pinched the pink globe of her left heel between his forefinger and thumb.
He dragged the bristles across her heel.
There was a small scraping sound followed by a startled cry. Lorelei’s body stiffened up, every muscle tautened like a startled cat.
He dragged the bristles along her arch.
An anguished yelp. A shudder. This was going to be good.
He watched as she flexed her toes back and forth and wrinkled her sole, trying to eliminate the lingering ghostly sensations of the hairbrush.
There was no smart-assed quip from her this time.
“See what I mean about the bristles?” Dante said. “You have to get it just right or you lose so much.”
He tightened his grip on her heel and dragged the plastic bristles along her arch once more. She yelped again, jumped as if scalded. He applied the bristles a third time. Always in the same direction, heel to toe.
“You’re a fucking weirdo, Dante.” She taunted, but there was a telltale tremor in her voice now.
“A novice is not permitted to use the name of an initiate, especially during discipline. You will call me Master or you will keep your mouth shut.”
“Screw you.” She hissed through gritted teeth.
Dante was smiling. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen next. I am going to have a fine old time tickling your feet. They are right here for me so there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. You can beg, you can scream, you can curse all you want but it won’t do you any good.”
For the merest instant Lorelei’s hip air of aloofness seemed to disappear. Blink and you miss it. She was quiet now though except for the telltale anxiety she revealed as her breath hissed through gritted teeth.
Dante was grinning to himself. He knew he had touched a nerve. He began to apply the flexible plastic bristles to the high, pink arch of her left foot.
She held her breath and bit her lower lip. He couldn’t see this of course as he was behind her but he was full conversant in all the body languages of the tickled and tortured and every move she made spoke volumes to him.
He scraped the bristles slowly around the soft pedicured roundness of her heel. Her buttocks tensed and shifted beneath her tight leather jeans.
“Oh yeah, I love the way your soles wrinkle and then smooth out. Let’s try that again.”
He forcefully bent her toes back and edged the bristles in a lazy winding path along the soft pads of flesh that lay next to the ball of her foot.
She shook ever so slightly. Her hamstrings flexed. Chains clinked up above as her shoulders tensed. She was putting up a good fight.
Dante switched to the other foot now. He let the bristles bend and flex as they kissed the outside of her sole and tentatively brushes against her instep.
She was starting to breathe a little harder now. Her chin was tucked into her chest and her eyes were screwed shut.
Dante started to apply the strokes with slow deliberation, counting aloud in a soulless monotone. He got as far as twenty-four before the first real cracks in her resilience started to show.
Her head whipped back. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” She whispered to herself.
Her toes were spread apart and mercilessly stroked. Dante knew what he was doing. He touched her just enough to tingle, to itch and it was an itch that she had no hope of scratching.
He loved how her body moved. She didn’t so much struggle as undulate. It was an exceptionally sensual and intimate experience. At least, it was from where he was sitting. He guessed it was something altogether more trying for Lorelei.
The Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, the Slovakian actress, the R&B singer… They were all beautiful women who had tasted his singular brand of discipline but Lorelei was another creature altogether.
When he hit the mid-fifties she started to beg. The effort had taken its toll on her. Her long dark hair was a wild, tangled mane and her bare arms were shiny with sweat.
“God, NOOO!” She pleaded before dissolving in a heaving fit of laughter, the tension finally breaking loose.
“I give up! You win, you win, you fucker!” She cried.
Dante put down the hairbrush and regarded her with curiosity.
“Really?”
She nodded, her eyes were screwed shut and she was still shaking with laughter.
“I win, you give up?”
“Yes!” Her scream was tinged with an air of hysterical frustration.
“Cool.” Dante said. He picked up the hairbrush again and ran it along her glowing arch.
“Fifty six.”
“Stop!” She screamed, her voice high pitched and hysterical. “What are you doing?”
“Well just because you’ve had enough doesn’t mean I have. I could do this for hours. In fact I think I will.”
Plastic bristles rubbed along tortured flesh. “Fifty seven.”
“No, no, no you can’t do this.” She begged. “God I never realised what it would be like, it’s…it’s torture.”
Dante quickly grabbed her chin and lifted her head forcing her to look into his piercing eyes. “Exactly.”
Lorelei let loose a wild banshee like shriek and began to struggle for all she was worth. Supple muscles stood out on her arms and her knuckles turned white as she tried to get a purchase on her chains and rip them from the ceiling. Her leather jeans creaked as she thrust back and forth trying to loosen her bonds.
She was putting up a fearsome struggle but Dante just stood casually and watched in vague amusement. His bondage equipment was custom made to exacting standards and there was no way Lorelei was going anywhere.
“Fifty-eight.”
She wailed as he pinched the ball of her foot and scrubbed the plastic bristles in small teasing circles.
“You know the feet have the longest nerves in the entire body?” He murmured. “Fifty-nine.”
Dante’s intimate knowledge of nerve endings and pressure points was serving him well as he slowly and methodically punished Lorelei’s feet with each stroke of the brush. From time to time he would drag a single manicured nail along the length of her arches or squeeze the pad of her big toe.
He knew this kind of slow torture was excruciating. All the victim wanted to do was rub their feet or if they couldn't do that then they would have preferred a frenzied tickle assault but he drip fed the agony. It was much the same as the anticipation as a roller-coaster click, click, clicks its way up the starting ramp. Both parties knew this was only the start.
Lorelei had been tied up before and had played kinky games but she had never been in a situation like this. No safe words, no time limits and no mercy.
She begged, she pleaded, she swore, she threatened, she promised the kind of things that would make a prudish audience blush but it all fell on deaf ears. Her tormentor counted the brushstrokes in a maddening monotone and exploited her sizzling nerve endings with a sadistic relish.
By the time Dante reached one hundred strokes, Lorelei felt totally spent, she could scarcely comprehend he was only halfway done with her.
“Well, have you learnt your lesson yet, Angie?” He asked cheerily. He deliberately used the diminutive form of her name to add insult to ticklish injury.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” She glowered.
“Yes I am, and well done you for noticing.” He said in a patronising tone, tweaking her nose for effect.
“OK,” she said, she batted her eyelashes and looked at him through heavy lids. “I get it, you’re in charge, I am the naughty little novice and I’ve been punished.”
He looked at her for several long seconds. Her body was slick and shiny with sweat she was breathing hard, her glorious chest pressing at her tight T-shirt with each laboured breath. Her lips were wet and her hair was wild.
She radiated an animal intensity that seared itself into his senses and even when she was just being exhausted she thrilled Dante in ways few women ever had. He was achingly hard inside his jeans. What was more, despite her protestations he knew she wasn’t beaten yet, she just wanted him to give up.
“OK,” he tossed the hairbrush onto the floor. “Maybe we should give that a rest now.”
Lorelei breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that,” she muttered.
“Besides, why should the brush have all the fun?”
He locked his fingers around Lorelei’s left ankle and began to wriggle his fingers against her sole.
She let loose an agonised squeal and then a stream of profanity aimed at Dante, his parents, their parents and any pets they might have had. She let him have both barrels with such ferocity and inventiveness that any US Marines in the vicinity would have stopped what they were doing to take notes for future reference.
Dante was impressed but there was a protocol to be observed.
“Such a shame to have to cover those sweet lips but I can’t have you talking to me like that.” He wandered over to a chest of drawers and began rummaging. “You will endure what follows. Ah here it is…”
Lorelei’s eyes widened as he turned round to reveal a bright red ball gag.
“Oh shit,” she began, “not the gag, not again, please, I’m begging you now. I can barely tolerate this as it is but not the gag…”
Dante was not especially gentle about gagging her. He forced the ball gag into her mouth.
And buckled it behind her head. Once the ball was pushed firmly between her lips and she could no longer complain she made her feelings known through furious animalistic growling.
All that stopped as soon as he re-introduced his fingers her vulnerable, tingling soles. At that point the protests were replaced by agonised and muffled squeals of laughter.
Dante viewed the ballgag as perfect for this sort of work. It wasn’t designed to silence the wearer but limit their ability to express themselves with any authority or coherence so he could enjoy her laughter but without the sailor style profanity.
He worked on her toes, starting with the little toe of her left foot, tweaking it and stroking each sensitive millimetre of skin with his manicured fingertips. He rubbed and stroked with light deft touches, working his way up to her big toe and then moved onto her right foot.
A stream of drool ran out of the corner of Lorelei’s mouth as her laughter and screaming was impeded by the ballgag.
Dante obligingly wiped it off and then returned to run all ten fingers up and down her bound feet in an agonisingly extended display of tickle torture because for Lorelei, the tickling had very definitely reached the point of becoming torture.
It wasn’t just Dante’s sensitivity; his deviousness, his inventiveness or his experience that made him so good at this kind of work. He was a true professional.
Many who thought they had the stomach for this kind of work, who were used to safewords and other precautions would most likely have relented and released the object of their attentions. Dante always recalled a line spoken by Mr Han, the chief villain from the Bruce Lee movie, Enter the Dragon.
It isn’t easy to be totally ruthless. It takes more strength than you might imagine.
He was careful not overload her nerve endings. He just wanted her sensitive and receptive. It was a fine line and one he walked with the flair of an artist.
After another twenty minutes of this, Lorelei hung limply in her chains, her body sagged with exhaustion and heaved with each breath.
Dante was pleased to see a single droplet of sweat trickle down her nose. He wiped it with the tip of his forefinger and licked it off, sucking his fingertip for theatrical effect.
“A little salty, but very tasty”
She glowered at him, baring her teeth over the top of the red rubber ball that was jammed into her mouth.
Dante noticed her sagging and tutted. “Slacking off already? I expected more of you.”
He wandered off behind her, out of her view and turned a handle a couple of notches, lifting her slightly in her chains. Her thighs were now at right angles to the ground and there was very little slack in her chains.
With her arms raised higher, her chest was pulled up and thrust out and her T-shirt stretched upwards, revealing several inches of toned and tanned belly.
When she squirmed now all she could really move was her hips, which undulated with a captivating liquid grace.
“There, much better.”
He sat behind her now, cupped her heels tightly and began rasping his tongue up and down her arches.
She thrashed and moaned but continued to attend to her with the same maddening self-control. He prised her toes apart and lashed them with his tongue; he nibbled his teeth up and down the darling little joints of her toes and placed wet sucking kisses on the balls of her feet and her arches.
He loosened his shirt a little more. Was it just her or was it hot in here?
She fought him all the way, even though it was obvious she couldn’t win. She would hold on, dig in and almost seem to conquer the sensations that ran through her feet but then he would switch his techniques, swap hard for soft or vice-versa and she would lose it again. Spittle ran down the corners of her mouth and she gnashed her teeth against the red rubber ball plugging her mouth while she spasmed helplessly.
The way in which her stomach quivered and her hips swayed combined to create something sexier than the best belly dancers Dante had ever seen. It was a performance he could get drunk on.
Dante played her like an instrument, using his fingers, his mouth and the plastic hairbrush in marvellous synchronicity. Some might have said he was positively orchestral in his arrangements but he preferred to think of himself as a jazz purist.
As much as Dante needed to be ruthless, he also needed to be disciplined. He allowed himself to enjoy his work but he did not gorge himself. He straightened up and rubbed Lorelei’s soles with a tenderness that surprised her.
“OK, you’re done for now.”
Lorelei let out a long ragged sigh of frustration and relief and sagged in her chains. Only for a few seconds though, she suddenly thrashed like a scalded cat and glared his direction, growling and mouthing something that he guessed was a request to be untied.
He unbuckled the ball gag and pulled it from her mouth. He raised an eyebrow at the precise row of teeth-marks she had made in the spherical gag. Dante smiled and gave a little shake of his head. He wouldn’t be able to use it again but it would make a nice souvenir.
Lorelei’s thick dark hair hung down to frame her face. She glared up at Dante, breathing hard. She was trying to recover some semblance of composure and was furious at being so helpless.
Dante lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb and looked deep into her eyes. She stared back defiantly.
“It sounds like a cliché but you got a lot of spirit,” he said with a wry smile.
Lorelei flicked her chin free from his grasp and maintained her stare. Her deep blue eyes were locked onto his, unblinking. Her mouth was set in a determined line and her nostrils flared gently with each breath.
Dante remembered reading how the old Soviet military intelligence apparatus, the GRU, would train its agents to develop an intimidating gaze by having them visit the zoo and stare down lions, tigers, wolves and bears. The animals may well have been caged and barred but there was something primal and alpha about not being the first to blink.
He had also learnt that anyone who holds your gaze for more than 4 seconds generally wants to fight you or fuck you.
They had locked gazes for far longer than that but Dante could not say with any degree of certainty, which was on Lorelei’s agenda. He felt a surge of excitement and a small triumph as she looked away.
“So what happens now?” She asked. Her tone suggested she was not going to like the answer.
“I like to always start off with a few light strokes,” he said, deliberately playing down the havoc he had just wrought on her sensitive and beautifully shaped feet. “It lets me know a lot about you. You would be surprised how much your body language gives away when you are being tickled.”
“Big wow, so you know I am ticklish.”
“Ah, but now I know exactly what I have to…. No, scratch that, what I need to do to you.”
A slight widening of the eyes betrayed Lorelei’s anxiety on hearing that her ordeal was not over yet.
“Ha, you think that’s all you were going to get? I know you shot a movie in South East Asia and I know you were taught a little Muay Thai. You ever go and see any real bouts?”
“Yeah we saw a couple of local fights while we were over there. What the hell has that got to do with anything?” She replied irritably.
“The opening round, the fighters never really engage. They probe, they feint, and they launch little exploratory salvos to see what their opponent’s strengths and weaknesses are. They save the real stuff for the later rounds.”
Lorelei looked back at him, her beautiful mouth set in a grim line of determination.
“So that was just the opening round. Now we can get down to the main task.”
Dante stood in front of his captive, looking her up and down, fists resting on his hips. “But first, I think we need to a little adjustment here.”
He hooked two fingers into the waist of her jeans and pulled her forward towards him. She was looking down on him slightly in her stretched position. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Spyderco, thumbing the blade open in one fluid motion.
Lorelei’s eyes widened momentarily as she the knife appear in Dante’s hand. He slipped the tip into the collar of her T-shirt and began to cut. There was a soft tearing sound as the fibres were torn apart by the razor sharp blade.
With a flick of the wrist the hem of her garment was cut apart and the two halves of the ruined shirt fell apart. Dante flicked them aside with the tip of his knife. Lorelei wore a shiny black bra that cupped her full, fine breasts. Her tanned skin was smooth and rippled softly in time with her breathing.
She returned his gaze without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.
Dante nodded once in appreciation then cut the T-shirt from her body, tossing the rags carelessly over his shoulder. He looked at her again, not just clad in her leather jeans and her bra.
“That is so much better.” He said, his voice was slightly hoarse now. She never looked this good in any of her photoshoots. This was all for his own private enjoyment.
“I just have to make a few arrangements now and everything will be ready to go.”
He walked behind Lorelei and she craned her neck to see what the rumbling noise was. He was pushing a block; similar to the one she was bound on. He pushed this up against the first block and she noted he locked it into place. It was a longer block and she now noticed that the blocks had fixtures built into them as if accessories could be added to suit the user’s preferences.
Dante caught her inquisitive glances. “Trust me, I didn’t get this stuff from Ikea. A guy in Heidelberg makes this equipment to order and he does not come cheap.
“Boys and their toys,” she muttered.
Dante mounted the second block and scooted forward. He was now kneeling behind Lorelei with her bound ankles between his legs.
“OK, let’s get comfortable,” he scooted a little closer. She could feel his breath on her neck.
“When we tussled earlier, I could tell you had a fantastic body. I am not just talking about looks here; there are thousands of women in these parts who worship at the altar of the body beautiful. You are something else entirely. I see in you a hunger, a passion, and a burning desire. You are a very sexual creature and that neither intimidates you nor frightens you and you make no attempt to hide it.”
He rested his fingertips lightly on Lorelei’s sides but did not move them yet.
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a look that would have turned most men to jelly in a desire to ingratiate themselves with this demi-goddess.
“What is this now, psych 101?”
He chuckled, enjoying their verbal fencing. “No, it’s an observation.”
She kept her gaze over her shoulder, their eyes locked. Dante’s fingers began to stroke up and down her ribs and sides. They glided softly from the waistband of her jeans to stretchy material of her bra. She held herself as still as possible as the fingertips travelled up and down, raising tiny goose bumps on her sensitive skin.
The dungeon was silent save for the sound of their breathing.
The fingertips began to swirl a little on their travels, describing small circles, loops and whorls. Dante felt Lorelei tense her muscles.
He suppressed a smile and maintained his poker face, gazing deep into her fearless eyes as he continued to explore. His fingers slid down to her waist and trickled across her stomach, igniting the nerve endings of the smooth skin between her belly button and her belt buckle.
“Like that?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.
“S’okay.” Her voice was soft as fur.
His fingers ran lightly up the middle of her belly to just below her bra. She let out a ragged breath. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore and turned to face away from him. Now he smiled.
His hands rode up her sides and stopped, gently squeezing the bottom of her ribs. He felt her stiffen as her breath caught in her throat. His pointer and middle fingers began to wiggle while his other fingers and thumbs held her in place.
A tell tale exhalation of air from her nostrils. Dante licked his lips and intensified the manipulation of her ribs.
“You can let it out,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s just you and me here.”
“Fuck off,” she began, her voice broke slightly at the end as the fingers teasing her body eroded her defences.
Dante shuffled forwards until he was pressed right up against her. “Not yet,” he replied, “I’m having too much fun.”
Now he quickly pinched the sides of her waist. She yelped and jerked forwards in her chains.
Dante’s palms ran up and down Lorelei’s sides now as his fingers played merry havoc with her ribs and her sides. Her body pressed against his as she wriggled, her leather clad buttocks rubbed against his crotch.
Lorelei threw her head back and let out a long peal of laughter. Dante buried his face into the side of her neck; chuckled, told her this was only the beginning.
She didn’t curse him, she didn’t beg him to stop, and she just laughed with wild abandon. Dante knew what she was doing. She was giving her laughter full rein, hoping that she could ride out the ticklish sensations he expertly delivered to her torso. Well he’d give her a little more to think about.
His fingers clawed and squeezed rapidly up and down her sides, he dug in a little harder now. He found a sweet spot just below her bra strap that responded particularly well if he dug in his pointer fingers and made tiny circles with them. Her head whipped from side to side. She wanted to shout “No” but she couldn’t catch her breath for laughing.
“Whoa, what’s with all this writhing and rubbing against me? Are you trying to turn me on?” Dante asked with false incredulity.
“Fuck you!” She shot back, but the venom of her words was diluted by the uncontrollable mirth.
“Well maybe later but you should at least buy me a drink first.” He replied.
He was having a great time with her ribs and she had a fine pair of lungs. His strong fingers worked their way around the front of her body and then reversed to settle on her back (which, he found was responsive to gentle “waterfall” tickling fingers running from her neck to her hips.) He lingered on each pass at the sweet spots on her sides below her bra strap.
“No!” She squealed in a high pitch as he probed the taut flesh between her ribs. She thrashed from side to side and Dante found himself having to wrap one strong arm around her middle and clutching her to him so he could explore those sweet spots at his leisure. The lack of mobility made it all the worse for the bound actress and she screamed long and loud with laughter as Dante worked over one side and then the other.
He was an expert at pacing himself and reading the reactions of his captive. He would work her over mercilessly for about five minutes at a time and then pause, gently rubbing his palms over her hot skin to defuse some of the heightened sensitivity. Then he would start all over again; working her up to a fever pitch of ticklishness and holding her there until he deemed it was time for her to have another break.
When Lorelei had been bound and wrapped up in a shroud at the hands of Belladonna’s taciturn muscle mary; she had experienced a moment of trepidation as to what awaited her. If she had been told tickling she would have sighed in relief. She was certainly ticklish but how much of an order could that really be?
She was finding that out in spades. She had been expertly bound and teased. Strong arms held her in place while knowing fingers ran free over her magnificent body stimulating nerve endings in ways she had never imagined. All the while her captor whispered in her ear, teasing her, taunting her pushing her buttons, playing with her.
Her sides ached from laughing and droplets of sweat ran down her superheated skin. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it any more he would stop, give her a soothing rub, and let her drink a little water and then he would start all over again. It was like some kind of eternal punishment from Greek mythology.
It had seemed like hours when Dante finally gave her a longer break. She felt him climb down from behind her and she let out a ragged sigh of relief. She leaned her head against the inside of her left arm, blinking sweat and tears of laughter out of her eyes.
Dante stood in front of her. “You look hot. That’s OK, I’ve worked up quite a sweat myself, I guess it’s a little warm in here.” He grinned and lunged forward at her, his fingers wriggling and reaching for her ribs.
Lorelei squealed and recoiled as much as she could, the chains above her arms clanking.
“You know it looks like I could be getting to you, maybe just a little bit. Hmmm?”
She glanced at him and let her head sag.
Dante was sweating. He stripped off his shirt and balled it up. He took a towel from a rail and wiped his face and his arms.
Lorelei lifted her head slightly and looked him over. He was lean and muscled. He didn’t have the heavy bulk of the bodybuilder but the smooth unknotted musculature of the functionally fit.
Maybe it was the bondage and the intimate way in which he had been touching her while their bodies were in close proximity but Lorelei felt her senses come to sexual alertness. She noticed a wicked red line that started high on the left side of his chiselled abdominals and faded an inch from his navel.
She gestured toward it with her chin. “How’d you get the scar?”
Dante smiled and traced the edge of the scar with his fingertips. “That’s an interesting story. It’s true what they say though, chicks dig scars.”
She laughed at that. “Well let me out of here, cowboy and maybe I’ll give you another one.”
Dante stroked his chin with the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, I reckon you would too, but you look pretty good where you are so let’s just leave you there for a little while.”
Lorelei rolled her eyes and rubbed her cheek against her upper arm, arresting the path of a slow droplet of sweat. “So what’s with losing the shirt, you getting a little hot or you just showing off your bod?”
Dante gave her a broad grin. “You like what you see?”
She shrugged non-committally. He looked pretty damn good. She noticed he was holding a small translucent pump dispenser that looked like the kind of thing shaving gel came in. “What’s that?”
“Well I could tell you but I think if we’ve learnt anything today it’s that actions are far more powerful than words.” He depressed the pump and squirted a dollop of clear gloop into his palm with a wet squelching noise. He shoved the dispenser in his pocket and rubbed his palms together.
Lorelei recoiled slightly. “What is that? You aren’t going to put any of that stuff on me!”
Dante advanced on her, fingers outstretched. The actress tried to wriggle away as his fingers drew closer. She let out a small gasp as his hands slapped lightly onto her sides. The goo on his hands was surprisingly warm.
“Oh don’t…” She began.
His hands began to stroke up and down her sides, rubbing the gel over her body; they swept across her belly and up her back. He squeezed another dollop and rubbed it over her upper and underarms.
Lorelei huffed in frustration and tried to turn away but she had nowhere to go and Dante took his sweet time running his hands over her body, smearing her sensitive skin with the mystery substance.
He worked his fingers under the waist of her jeans and coated her hips, lower belly and lower back. She flinched and bit her lip, suppressing a grin as he swirled some into her bellybutton with his fingertip. He even dripped some of the goo onto her cleavage and stroked it over her throat and neck. Her skin had a light sheen of sweat already and with the addition of the strange warming gel she was positively glowing.
Dante stepped back to admire his handiwork. Lorelei’s brow furrowed and she began to shift uneasily from side to side.
“What’s the matter, ants in your pants?” Dante asked.
The warm gel Dante had massaged into her body tingled, it made her fidgety. She desperately wanted to rub her hands over her skin and try and remove the sensation but that was impossible.
“What the hell is this? What did you do to me?” A note of rising anxiety crept into her voice.
“A little concoction I had made up specially.” Dante answered casually. “You know those kinky, edible massage lotions you can buy? Of course you do. Well this is just like that with a kind of, um…itching powder after taste.”
Lorelei groaned and jerked around in her bonds.
“It seems to be making you a little squirmy doesn’t it? Maybe I can help you out with that.” Dante said.
“Ooh, you sick bastard.” Lorelei hissed, knowing full well what was coming next.
Dante mounted the bondage block behind her and whispered into her ear, “Sweetheart, you have no idea.”
He elicited a scream of surprise as squeezed her hips through her jeans and then he began a ticklish rampage all over his captive’s lush body.
“Nooo!” She howled and howled and screamed with laughter as his fingers ran over her skin, probing and stroking, teasing and squeezing. She was already weak and sensitive from the foot tickling and rib tickling and now this new torment seem to multiply everything she had felt before.
He had not really tickled her armpits before but he did so now. His bunched fingers scribbled softly in her smooth hollows raising banshee-like screams of delirium. He was elated with this result and experimented with different tickling techniques. One finger at a time. All fingers together. Stroking. Scribbling. He whispered into her ear whilst nibbling her lobes, asking her which tickled more. She was in no fit state to answer and he did not expect her to either.
Her beautiful, quivering belly suffered his attentions too. He pressed himself right up against her, one arm locked around her middle, her breasts rubbing his forearm as he wiggled a fingertip around the rim of her navel. She pressed herself into him as his fingertip dipped into the shallow cup, teasing the soft flesh at its centre.
She didn’t curse or call him names this time, she just laughed and cried and gulped and giggled and begged.
They were both sweating and breathing hard by now with exertion and excitement.
Dante smiled to himself, he fluttered his fingertips down Lorelei’s athletic back, eliciting a little shimmy from her. He picked up the little dispenser and squirted some more of his infuriating massage gel on the soles of her feet.
She gasped as the gloop slithered over her soles and Dante wasted no time in a forceful application. He exhibited his usual thoroughness as he rubbed it between her shapely little toes.
“Oh shit…” Lorelei whispered as she felt the now familiar tingling build on her feet. “Oh no…”
“Oh yes,” Dante whispered.
He reached behind him and with his left hand and began to scribble his fingers over her soles. She erupted instantly, unable to contain her laughter.
Dante pressed his rigid fingertips into her aching arches and raking them mercilessly. His right hand slipped around to dance up and down the centre of her belly. He squeezed her ribs, poked her bellybutton and ran his fingers under the waist of her jeans to tickle her hips.
The torment he unleashed was calculating and devious. It was bad enough to have your feet tickled or your tummy but both at the same time coupled with strict bondage was true torture for the ticklish, particularly when mercy was in short supply.
And oh what a show she gave him. She undulated and writhed with more abandon and eroticism than the best pole dancers or burlesque troop. Clad only in her tight leather jeans and black bra, she was a glistening sexual fantasy made flesh and that flesh was Dante’s to tease.
In the midst of the shocking sensations that were racking her fabulous form, Lorelei had an epiphany of sorts on Einstein’s theory of relativity. Time was indeed a relative concept. A few seconds of tickling to which one had no means of resistance could feel like hours. By the same token, a brief respite seemed to pass in the blink of an eye before the next session started.
Had she been sitting somewhere peaceful nursing an ice-cold Dos Equiis with a Hemingway-esque Moleskin notebook to hand she might well have recorded her thoughts on the matter. As it was she was twisting and shrieking beneath Dante’s merciless fingers like a woman possessed.
Dante recognised the sensual abandon rippling through Lorelei’s body. She was no longer self-conscious or resistant or defiant. For her now there was only the tickling. This was the moment when he felt supremely powerful. He was the puppet master and they were his beautiful and pliable marionettes.
Unlike his beautiful plaything, Dante never lost track of time during a session. He knew full well that fifteen minutes of his fingers devouring her slick skin would have been an eternity for her and he decided to change the tone of his ministrations.
The fingers that had scribbled her poked her soles and toes now soothed and stroked. The hands moving over her sides and her stomach caressed and nurtured. Little by little, Lorelei succumbed to these softer attentions. Her breathing slowed, her trembling subsided. She sighed with a mix of relief and gratitude.
Dante whispered into her ear. “You are magnificent. You are the untameable. Don’t you ever fucking change.”
Lorelei smiled and giggled like a schoolgirl. For reasons she could not understand she felt overjoyed to have received such a compliment from her tormentor.
His strong hands slid down over her hips and rubbed along her thighs, massaging and squeezing. His fingertips pressed and soothed the aching muscles. Lorelei leaned backwards, resting her head on Dante’s shoulder. She tilted her head into the crook of his neck and sighed.
He planted a soft kiss against her throat as he eyed the beating expanse of her chest below. She let out another soft giggle.
“That was intense. That was sooo fucking intense.” She breathed.
Dante smiled to himself. “Yes it was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone take so much. Usually by this point, even the ballbreakers and crying and begging me to stop, promising me things that would make the moral majority spontaneously combust.”
“Something tells me that falls on deaf ears.” Lorelei murmured. She stretched like a cat and squirmed her buttocks against the throbbing hardess in Dante’s jeans.
“Ah, you know me so well.” Dante’s hands adjusted slightly, his hands continued to stroke her thighs but now his middle fingers traced the inner seam of her jeans, gliding tantalisingly close to her centre. He didn’t bother to say anything, instead choosing to spend a few lovely moments lulling her with his tender touch.
She licked her lips. He felt her hips move and press back into him slightly.
All in good time, he thought to himself. All in good time.
His hands rose up over her slick belly and ribs to cup her breasts. A breath caught in her throat. He could feel her heart beat jack hammering. He gently squeezed her through her bra, his thumbs swept over the satin cups, locating the stiffening buds of her nipples. He leaned back in to her neck and bit down. Not hard enough to draw blood or even leave a mark but it was enough to get her attention.
They froze for a few seconds, like an erotic sculpture of timeless sensuality and domination.
She was almost disappointed when the pressure on her breasts vanished and his hands dropped back down her body.
Dante’s fingers brushed over the waist of her jeans, over her belt and then insinuated themselves in her hip pockets. The probed deeper, seeking the sweet spots just inside the hipbones.
Lorelei let out a startled gasp as the fingertips hit home. She tried to bend forward but with her arms chained to the ceiling it was impossible.
“No.” It was more of a whisper than anything else, an expression of disbelief rather than defiance.
Dante’s mouth was still fastened onto her neck; he flickered the tip of his tongue against her and gave a small throaty chuckle. His fingertips wiggled over her hips. She squealed. The wiggled again. She let out a strangled gasp. His fingertips went berserk.
It was the one place on her body that Lorelei had found was ticklish to her own touch. One time a lover had been kissing his way down her body and when his lips had touched her there she had jerked so hard she had almost broken his jaw with her hip.
Bright white light exploded through her consciousness at the horror that this man to whom she had been ready, willing and aching to submit had found her ticklish pressure points and was now mercilessly exploiting them.
Once the shock faded there was only the realm of the senses. He was laughing. Was her laughing at her? Was he laughing because she was laughing? She was laughing. No, she was screaming, wailing, gasping. How was it possible, that a little tickling one on single spot could make her react like this?
“Oh, touched a nerve?” Dante bantered. He doubted she heard him, he didn’t care.
He nibbled the nape of her neck and flicked his tongue behind her ears. One hand slipped out of her pockets to caress her breasts and pinch her engorged nipples before plunging back in. He blended the sensuality and the torment with stunning expertise, sending his plaything hurtling from one to the other. Over and over. By the time he was finished with this little session she probably wouldn’t remember her own name.
His hands slipped out of her pockets again. The left plunged between her thighs to squeeze her mound, making her jump. The right spidered up her body to linger in her underarm, flickering at the soft hollows.
The hands alternated back and forth. One tickling the hell out of her pits the other lingering on her womanhood, stroking her through the hot leather jeans, tracing her lips, pressing, stimulating.
Lorelei threw her head back and let out an undulating scream of frustration. She was insanely aroused and tormented but she had no way of relieving either situation. She bucked her hips against his hands and tried to twist her body from his fingers but he denied her on both fronts.
He would stop. For how long? A minute? Maybe two? Then he started again, like a machine. Teasing and caressing. With each onslaught, he would tease her, whispering things in her ears, nibbling her neck.
She could feel her heart thumping hard, the pulse jumping in her neck. She couldn’t take much more of this. She simply couldn’t. She couldn’t even muster the wind to scream at him, to curse at him. Then again, unlike many that had preceded her in this dungeon of laughter, she had quickly learnt that her jailer was immune to threats and promises.
Her vision started to go blurry at the edges and breathing became harder. She knew what was happening, what was coming. She welcomed it.
Finally she finally slumped forward like a ragdoll, unable to take any more.
Dante mopped his perspiring brow and took a couple of deep breaths to slow his racing pulse. He was painfully hard in his jeans by now and probably needed a break himself. He pressed two fingers against the side of Lorelei’s neck and felt her pulse. Now he knew what it took to send her over the edge.
He took a soft terrycloth towel from a hook and gently rubbed her down, then did the same to himself. She would probably need a few minutes rest after all that.
He decided to go and make himself a smoothie, do a few push ups and pull ups, maybe hit the punchbag for a minute or two to take the edge off his own arousal and then he would come back down and pick up where he left off. There was still so much left to do.
…
Lorelei was still slumbering peacefully when Dante returned. He picked up a padded backrest and bolted it into the block just behind her feet. Then he bolted in a pair of stocks. Now came the dangerous part.
He lowered her wrists and uncuffed her. If she were to awaken now she could try to take his face off. Dante liked to live dangerously and the thrill excited him.
As it was, she did not awaken. He reached around her back and unhooked her bra and dragged it down her arms. He paused for a moment to admire her naked breasts. They were full and shapely with exquisite nipples, just as he had imagined.
He lowered her back onto the padded rest and then pulled her wrists over her head. The stocks were designed for wrists and he slipped them into the holes and secured the fastenings. She would not be able to pull her arms back through but he had a second measure built in. Each stock featured a tough inflatable bag like a blood pressure cuff that expanded to minimise the wriggle room for the captured wrist.
Dante stepped back and admired his handiwork. The stocks were slightly lower than the backrest, which had the effect of arching Lorelei in a most pleasing fashion. Her smooth belly was stretched taut and her breasts looked magnificent. There was nowhere for her head to rest and it hung back limply, her glossy locks cascading down to pool on expensive leather padding.
He nodded to himself. It was time to awaken sleeping beauty.
The brunette frowned and then winced as Dante cupped the back of her head and then waved smelling salts under her nose.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him, her breathing betraying her disorientation and nervousness. She groaned as he grinned down at her. She became aware of the airflow on her skin and realised she was naked from the waist up.
“I took the liberty of removing your bra while you were asleep.” Dante said. “You have phenomenal tits. It was an effort of will not to touch them.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” She said sarcastically.
Dante rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’ve got you chained up in a bondage dungeon. I could have done anything I wanted to you while you were asleep or awake. Get over yourself.”
She groaned and let her head fall back. She knew she couldn’t win here.
He placed his palm on her taut belly, spreading his fingers. “Besides, it is so much more fun when you are awake.
“What the…” She craned up to look at him, just as he bent down and flicked his tongue over her right nipple.
“Hey…!”
He silenced her with a single fingertip placed against her lips as his own moistened and caressed the glorious pink bud.
She groaned and arched as he expertly stimulated her nipples into a state of ripe arousal.
Satisfied with the fruits of his labour, Dante straightened up. “Now don’t go getting any funny ideas. I had to do that, so I could do this…”
He held up a gold chain with an odd looking clip at either end. She peered up at him, painfully aware of her throbbing buds.
He grinned at her, “Nipple clamps!”
She squealed as he swiftly applied a clamp to each quivering nipple. Gasping with shock, she realised it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. The pressure merely served to heighten the pulsating in her breasts.
Dante positioned himself in front of her and smiled. “Magnificent. Leather clad vixen with the body of a goddess served up on a platter for me to discipline. What could be sweeter?”
Lorelei was craning to look up at him but her neck muscles were straining so she let her head drop back again. That still left her in an uncomfortable position but right now it was the lesser of two evils. She had no doubt that once Dante resumed his duties that would be the least of her worries.
He pulled another block into place in front of her and straddled it. Then he started with her knees.
She twitched as his strong fingers and thumbs began to squeeze, digging in just above the kneecap. He applied pressure and made small circles with his fingertips. She snorted and wriggled a bit. Tried to crane upwards and rest her head against one outstretched arm.
“Comfortable?” He asked casually.
He began to lobster claw his way up her thighs, kneading the smooth, firm muscle through warm leather.
She groaned uncertainly as he approached her hips. She twisted awkwardly and pressed her face into the side of her arm, seeking to relieve the strain on her neck muscles.
Dante’s thumbs began tracing the shallow v formed by the juncture of her thighs, moving inexorably to her pulsing centre.
She bit her lip and moaned as he began to rub her there insistently. His free hand reached around to squeeze her butt and dropped down to lazily stroke her sole.
She giggled, her hips shifted, leather creaked.
Dante moved off his block and to her side. One arm slid between her thighs to tickle her feet again. His upper arm was pressed into her crotch, maintaining a sensual pressure there as his fingers drew patterns on her soles.
He picked up the chain linking her nipple clamps and gave it a few gentle tugs, eliciting gasps of pleasure. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, her brow furrowed slightly.
“I bet you wish I’d take those off, don’t you?” He whispered. “I know that you are aroused now.” His biceps rubbed hard against the centre seam of her jeans as his hand played with her feet. He tugged at the chain again, watching her breasts jiggle.
He reached around her back and tickled her side, poking her lightly in the ribs. She giggled and squirmed. He leaned forward and began to flutter his tongue against the hollow of her throat.
Now she groaned. Her back arched and her thighs squeezed his upper arm as he held in twilight of gentle tickling and erotic stimulation.
His mouth travelled down her body and she shuddered as his tongue circled her bellybutton, teasing, suggesting, promising.
He blew a raspberry on her tummy and she squealed. “Goofy.” She muttered. Dante was chuckling too. He blew another and then another.
The skin of her belly was smooth and inviting and he fluttered his tongue over it before plunging into her navel, swirling and licking.
He was momentarily overcome with an intense hunger and he sucked hard on her bellybutton. She let out a startled “ooh!”
“Heh, nearly turned your innie into an outie.” He joked, placing a gentle kiss on the glistening dimple.
All the while, she humped his muscular arm as much as she could while he teased her toes.
The tortuous tone was replaced with something altogether more sensual now. She was still being tickled and teased and she horribly bound. Yet for some reason she was enjoying it, more than that she wanted it.
Dante read the sensual shimmering of her body and flattened his palm on her belly. Then slowly, ever so slowly, his fingers oozed under the waist of her jeans and slipped onto the front of her thong panties.
Lorelei’s eyes snapped open. Her chest heaved, her lips were slightly parted. The huge blue eyes that looked into his were totally submissive. She was waiting, hoping.
His middle finger traversed the moist silk triangle and rubbed gently against her quivering lips and engorged clit.
She let out a long ragged breath. “Oh fuuuuuck…”
Her hips arched, trapping his hand on her dripping pussy. He reached up and gave the chain between her breasts a few gentle tugs. He pressed though slick folds of measurably thin material and teased her swollen lips and bud.
Dante breathed on her neck, fluttered his lips against it and she jerked almost as if scalded. “Mmm, ripe for plucking,” he whispered huskily.
He moved around to the block in front of her again ran his over body. He squeezed her thighs, butt and hips, stroked her sides, her armpits and her belly, he caressed and groped her breasts.
Then his fingers returned to her feet. She groaned and giggled as he lightly tickled her soles and pressed his face deep into her crotch, inhaling the heady scent of heated leather and steaming sex.
Lorelei’s heart pounded in her chest so hard she swore she could feel the chain on her nipple clamps jerking in time. Her pussy was dripping love honey and she was aching for a release. The pressure in her nipples was indescribable. It was torture, sweet, sweet torture.
Almost as if reading her mind, Dante travelled up her body and took her clamped nipples into his mouth one by one, sucking and licking the tormented buds with rare skill. He licked her navel again and then his hands were squeezing at her waist.
Lorelei gasped as she felt him undoing her belt buckle. She looked up to see him jerk the leather aside, flick open the snap of her jeans and pull down the zipper.
He didn’t even look at her. He wrestled her jeans off her hips and pulled them down her thighs.
Now all the covered her modesty was a thin triangle of silk. She held her breath. His fingers snagged the thin straps and ripped the thong from her easily, leaving her naked.
She shuddered with longing. His fingers gently drifted up her inner thighs. His fingertips tenderly teased and stroked her lips.
“Oh my God, that’s wonderful,” she whispered into the ether.
Dante licked his lips and pressed his mouth against her smooth, shaved mound. He licked her lips and stabbed the tip of his tongue against her engorged clitoris.
“Fuck, shit, no, stop…yes!” Lorelei reeled. She felt she was approaching a sensual overload.
He lapped at her gently, tasting the sweet nectar of her sex. His hands slid around to find her feet. He hadn’t planned things this way. Sometimes they just happened. Well, it was time to go with the flow.
As he fucked her with his mouth, he tickled her feet with his fingers. Teasing the longest nerves in the body, licking the sexual centre of a woman, ruthless bondage. It was an intoxicating combination.
His tongue whipped her into an erotic frenzy. She writhed from side to side as the tickling and the licking competed for the attention of her nervous system and came to an excruciating.
“Fuck me! Oh shit, this is….no no stop….no do it, don’t stop! Yess!” How much was too much. Lorelei didn’t care. Oscars, movie deals, the press, her career… Right now they were all flat, boring secondaries. The only thing that existed was the sensual tickle fucking being meted out by a master.
She felt an urgent trembling in her loins as the waves of her orgasm built up like the tsunami in a Kuniyoshi woodblock print. Ticklish sensations multiplied the orgasmic pulsing emanating from her centre.
“Yes, yes…fucking yes!” She was so close.
Dante backed off, his stubble scraping gently against her smooth inner thighs. He let go completely.
She teetered on the brink. The waves began to calm. She screamed with frustration. Her nipples throbbed like mad.
“Another kind of torture. Denial.” Dante said bluntly.
She was almost crying now, tears of frustration pricked the corners of her eyes. All she wanted was to cum. Why wouldn’t he let her cum?
His mouth was there again, licking her pussy, his tongue probing. She gritted her teeth, determined to resist his wicked game but she soon felt the hot waves of liquid fire building.
He brought her close. He backed off. He brought her close. He backed off. He taunted her with the excruciating cycle of arousal and denial for what seemed like hours.
Lorelei trembled uncontrollably in her bondage. Her fabulous body glistening with sweat. She felt like she was a bottle of soda that had been vigorously shaken and if the top weren’t taken off she would explode.
He brought her close; he tickled her feet, more licking, more tickling.
Oh God she hated him for doing this to her. No she loved it; she had never been touched like this before. The bastard. Fucking amazing.
He brought her close, closer. His expert tongue plundered her aching pussy ruthlessly; his fingers were maddening on her sensitive soles. He reached up and plucked the clamps from her nipples. She screamed as blood rushed to her tormented breasts, engulfing her chest in a pleasure/pain she had never imagined possible. His other hand played with pussy and she started to cum against his hand.
He gave each nipple a suck and then returned to her crotch, licking and slurping up her pumping love juice whilst tickling her feet.
Lorelei had the orgasm of her life. Bright white light exploded in her sensorium and she thought she would pass out.
Dante held her there at the peak of the climax, tickling, sucking.
Eventually, the orgasmic waves calmed.
The fingers kept tickling her feet. Why was she so sensitive now?
“Enough, really,” she giggled.
He carried on stroking her soles, squeezing the pads of her toes.
“No really, please!”
He kissed her pussy lips.
“NO!” She squealed. She was so sensitive, this was excruciating.
He kept it up for three minutes, tormenting her ravished body as he had done for hours.
Lorelei screamed and begged him to stop. The waves began to stir again.
“Oh fuck no, you’re going to kill me!”
Dante ignored her and continued to arouse her.
If the first orgasm had hit her like a tidal wave, the second was like a car crash, hard and fast and she nearly gave herself whiplash.
He kept it up, lapping up the juice of her sex and tickling her feet whilst making her cum over and over. He was amazed at her stamina although he doubted she’d remember her own name by the time he was finished.
Lorelei was lost on a rollercoaster of erotic shocks. She couldn’t control it, or stop it and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to end. It was like an endless outpouring of hot, brilliant white light that pounded through her and threatened to engulf her, mind, her body her soul.
But even she could only take so much. Shuddering from yet another powerful climax she grunted hard through gritted teeth and then collapsed, exhausted, empty, thoroughly spent.
Dante stood up and stretched his back, easing out the kinks in his muscles. He licked his lips, the aching throbbing in his jeans still unsatisfied.
He took several deep breaths in through his nose and expelled them forcefully through his mouth.
“I think you’ve earned yourself a little rest.” He muttered to the sleeping woman.
He carefully undid Lorelei’s restraints and massaged her ankles and wrists.
He stood her up and she lolled against him, her jeans pooling around her ankles. He bent down and scooped up her bra and then hoisted her onto his shoulder.
He carried the slumbering upstairs and deposited her gently on the sofa. He removed her jeans completely and then covered her with a blanket.
She looked like a fresh faced college girl now, fast asleep under the blanket. There was no trace of the smart-mouthed hellion who had been deposited in his lounge several hours earlier by the Sphinx. Her face was smooth and unlined and there was slight smile at the corners of her mouth. Dante metaphorically patted himself on the back. A job well done.
But there was still the matter of his tumescence to address. He usually had a number of women he could call upon but after applying himself so vigorously to Lorelei, he felt that any of them would prove disappointing tonight. He wandered upstairs where he planned to take the matter in hand himself.
….
Lorelei awoke from a deep slumber, arching with feline grace. She ached from her hours in bondage but her body was still bathed in the afterglow of tempestuous sex. She was relieved to find she was unbound, although naked. She realised she was in Dante’s living room although she couldn’t remember how she had arrived there.
The first thing was that was she still exhausted. The body she had so proudly honed had all the power of a wet noodle. The second thing she realised was that there was a delicious smell of cooking wafting in from the kitchen. She realised she was ravenous and rubbed her grumbling tummy.
She swung her feet to the floor and noticed that her leather jeans and bra were neatly folded on the coffee table along with the black shirt Dante had been wearing earlier. She stood up and put her jeans on and then her bra and then slipped into the shirt without bothering to button it.
She padded softly into the kitchen, brushing a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.
Dante was wearing jeans and a grey T-shirt. In one hand he was nursing a bottle of Asahi Super Dry whilst the other busied itself with a hissing wok.
“Ah, you’re awake.” He said with a smile. “I’m just whipping something up to eat. Hungry?”
She nodded and stifled a yawn. It felt strange to see him like this. A few hours ago he had taken her to sensual heights she hadn’t believed possible and now here he was cooking and nursing a cold beer like any normal guy. A strange heat suffused Lorelei’s cheeks and she realised she was blushing.
He walked over to her and put his arms around her. At first she thought he was going to hug her and she started to respond but then he firmly pulled her wrists behind her and she felt the cool pressure of metal bracelets on her wrists as he snapped a pair of cuffs in place.
She looked up and pouted, disbelieving that she was still under discipline.
Dante tapped her on the nose with his forefinger. “Let’s see if you’ve learned to behave.
He filled a plate with food and sat her on his lap. He fed her but teased her at the same time, moving forkfuls of food away as she moved her mouth towards them. His hands found their way under her shirt to tickle her and pinch her waist, distracting her as she tried to eat. She squirmed and giggled in his lap, enjoying the game and the attention.
Soon enough the shirt was pooled around her wrists and she was squealing as Dante made her beg for each mouthful of food. As his tickle toy she was denied beer but he did allow her a drink of water.
Lorelei was still exhausted from her ordeal and with some food in her tummy, her eyelids started to droop again. She was dimly aware of Dante carrying her up a flight of stairs and then into a dark panelled room and towards a king sized bed.
…
The vibrating cellphone didn’t make much noise but Dante was a very light sleeper and instantly came awake. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm and then he answered his phone.
“Hello?”
“Bonjour, darling, it is I, Belladonna.”
“Hey, good morning gorgeous.” He said with a smile.
“And a very good morning to you. Now tell me, how is our recalcitrant novice today?”
Dante looked over his shoulder at Lorelei. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the wrought iron bedframe and although it hadn’t been strictly necessary, he had placed a pillow under her back to stretch her belly and accentuate the thrust of her breasts. As a finishing touch he had placed three overlapping strips of duct tape over her mouth.
“Oh, she’s fine, just sleeping now, I’ll wake her up.”
He leaned over, pressed his face into her stomach and blew a loud, wet raspberry.
Lorelei’s eyes snapped wide open and she screamed something unintelligible behind her tape gag.
“It’s Belladonna,” Dante said, holding up the phone. “Do you want to speak to her?”
He listened to her muffled protests with an amused grin. “Didn’t think so, well I’ll tell her you said hello anyway.”
He turned back to the call. “So what’s up, Miss B?”
“Well I just wanted to make sure your work is done and that I should send Sphinx to collect her at midday as agreed.”
“Midday?” Dante said, rather too loudly and for Lorelei’s benefit. “I don’t think so. You see, she’s quite the naughty girl and I think she needs extra special treatment to ensure good behaviour from now on…. How about you send the Sphinx to collect her at midday tomorrow?
Lorelei shook her head in disbelief and yanked at her bonds.
“Really? Wonderful.” Dante continued, he flickered his fingers in an exposed underarm and was rewarded with a squeal. “Yes, well I still have a lot to try on her. I haven’t used the Hitachi on her yet and we’ve only really tried a couple of bondage positions so far. There is so much I could do with her.”
Lorelei was groaning hard, trying to blow the tape away from her lips.
“Midday tomorrow then. Wonderful!” Dante called out cheerily. He ended the call, tossed his phone aside and placed his hands either side of Lorelei’s body, his face close to hers.
“Now that we’ve got to know each other a little bit we can really start to have some fun.”
She shook her head and pleaded with her eyes. If she weren’t gagged she would have happily told him they could fuck all weekend but she couldn’t stand the idea of anymore tickling.
Dante chuckled and traced his fingertips over her pronounced ribcage. “Oh yes, sweetheart. I have got some big plans for you.
…
EPILOGUE
California, summer 2005…
Dante sighed; these starlets could be a pain in the butt. He looked at the prissy specimen bound before him and decided he had really preferred her with dark hair. He wasn’t keen on her new blonde look. She had been named Bliss within Le Cercle although he was beginning to think Harpy might be more appropriate.
She was screaming at him and threatening him with violence and legal proceedings unless he released her immediately.
He looked her up and down, leather chaps, cowboy boots, sequinned bra. She had a toned, tanned body and big dark eyes and her similarly adorned image currently adorned the room walls and screensavers of thousands of young men across the world.
Of course in those images she probably wasn’t bound in a “Y” position with her arms stretched up to the ceiling and her tiptoes barely grazing the floor.
Clearing his throat loudly, Dante ignored the young actress’ outbursts. “Someone told me the character you play spends most of her time in the source material with her breasts bared and yet you kept your bra on. What’s up with that?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Aw fuck you. You’re just another old pervert.”
“And you’re just too precious for words.” He teased, reaching out to flip her nose with his thumb.”
She fumed back at him. “So what’s this fuckin’ punishment you are supposed to carry out? You wanna see my tits, is that it?”
“Sweetheart, I am sure you have lovely breasts but really, get over yourself.”
Her cheeks blazed hot with anger.
“Just leave me the fuck alone OK? I’m not in the mood.”
Dante shrugged. “Who said I am going to do anything to you?”
She looked confused now. “But I thought…”
The nubile young actress’ words were cut short by the gunshot crack of boot heels on the cold stone floor. She tried to look over her shoulder at the newcomer and gasped when she saw who it was.
“You’re…” She began.
“You will address me as Mistress Lorelei,” the newcomer interrupted sharply, “And your sweet little ass is all mine.” She illustrated the point by slapping one of the actress’ firm round buttocks with a leather-gloved palm. The starlet yelped.
Lorelei stepped around the bound woman, surveying her with mischievous, calculating eyes. She let the fingertips of her gloved hand trail across the bound blonde’s smooth belly, eliciting a shiver.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were a member here. I just joined and…” The starlet gushed.
“Shut your mouth, sweetheart. Speak when you’re spoken to or else.” Lorelei said strictly as she played with the slim riding crop on her belt. Her long black hair was styled in a high ponytail. She wore a crisp white blouse, jodhpurs and long black boots.
“What happens now?” The blonde asked. Her bravado and defiance seemed to shrink as she watched Lorelei slowly tug off her black leather gloves.
“What happens now? I’m going to tickle you, that’s what’s going to happen now.”
“T-tickle me?” The young actress suddenly felt horribly vulnerable. Goosebumps broke out on her skin.
“Yeah,” Lorelei breathed sexily. She stepped behind the younger woman and placed her hands on her hips, savouring the sensation of her prisoner’s taut young body. She used a line she had heard someone else use. “And I don’t just mean, poke, poke, giggle, giggle tickle. This is going to be tickling like you can’t imagine. It just never stops.”
“No you can’t do that!” The actress blurted.
Lorelei clamped a hand hard over the blonde’s mouth. She leaned her cheek against the blonde’s and sighed. “Dante honey, I’ve got a bitch of a hangover today. You think you could get me something from your gag collection? I really don’t wanna listen to this little one screaming until the Tylenol kicks in.”
“You know I think I have just the thing.” Dante grinned.
As he rummaged around for something that would look just right fastened between the whimpering blonde’s pouting lips he reflected on that unforgettable weekend two years ago.
In his mind the best ticklers were split into two categories. There were those who were devious and interested enough to learn ways of playfully, sensually or sadistically administering a tickling. Then there were those who tickled from the experience of finding themselves on the other end of the fingers and feathers. He found the latter variety to be more inclined to sadistic tickling.
He had seen the potential in Lorelei for tickle torture and had spent a long weekend subjecting her to the most devious and tantalising ticklish attentions he could imagine.
Subsequently he had engineered other situations to place her under his charge. She hadn’t realised it at the time but he was training her, honing her. He began to let her watch him administer discipline to others and when the time was right, he allowed her to take a more active role in proceedings. Her appetite for the work had been voracious in the extreme and she showed an inventiveness and creativity that sometimes surprised even his jaded aspect.
He looked at the gleam in her eye as the trembling blonde whimpered at the thought of what she was about to endure.
It was moments like this that made it all worthwhile.
This was going to be epic.
THE TAMING
By Suikoden
California, summer 2003…
The man known as Dante stood out on the decking enjoying the early evening breeze. He was nursing a glass of iced water and wearing a midnight blue single breasted suit with a white shirt and navy tie. He looked like a businessman who was winding down after a long week, which to all intents and purposes was exactly what he was.
There was no one around to see him but if there had been they would have seen, tanned athletic man in his late-30s with close-cropped black hair and slightly hooded eyes. It was a feature that excited some women, they felt it gave him an air of mystery and danger.
He loosened his tie and shirt collar and contemplated the phone call that had caused him to change his plans for the evening.
He had been on his way home, when a call had come in on his cellphone. Dante always carried two cellphones. The first was silver and was the phone on which he took calls from his work colleagues, clients, friends and family.
The second phone was black and was only ever set to vibrate. The call had come in on this particular phone.
He answered with a word. “Dante.”
“Dante, darling, I am so glad I caught you!” He smiled, recognising the Slavic intonations of Belladonna.
“Belladonna, how wonderful to hear from you. To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”
“A novice,” she gushed. “A bad, bad girl. She is a new initiate. Just last night she was given to a gentleman from Germany, a very important member. He merely wanted to discipline her, a little mild spanking with a hairbrush, and perhaps to play with her feet a little, paint her toenails.” She paused to let out an exasperated sigh.
Dante grinned to himself. He thought he knew the German in question and he was no fan of the man but rules were rules. He waited for her to continue.
“Such a bad girl! She punched this man in the face! She broke his nose. Can you imagine it? Never have I heard of anything like this!”
Dante bit his lip. He found the thought of this particular pompous Prussian getting knocked on his ass rather appealing. “Well that certainly sounds serious. I take it you are calling because you require my special services?”
“Yes, darling, yes. That would be wonderful. You seem to have such a way of instilling discipline in these wayward ones.”
“Well then,” Dante replied coolly, “your place or mine?”
“Can we bring her to you, darling? I know you like to have your own things around you for this sort of thing.”
“Ah you know me so well. See you in an hour?”
“Fabulous, I know you will be able to resolve this to everyone’s satisfaction.” Belladona’s tone sounded much brighter now.
“An hour then,” Dante replied. He clamshelled his cellphone shut. He would need time to prepare.
Le Cercle Noir was a discreet and exclusive society catering to the exploration of domination and submission in all their glorious forms.
Membership was not easy to come by. For one thing, there were no spectators. Much like at Fight Club, if it was your first time you had to play. You would be photographed and filmed of course and those images would be kept safe to ensure your discretion. The membership list of Le Cercle would have made a gossip columnist’s head spin so secrecy was all-important.
Dante considered himself a student of all that life had to offer and his membership of Le Cercle was just one aspect of that.
Inside the house, Dante heard the doorbell chime. He crossed the hardwood flooring in easy loping strides and opened the front door, giving Belladonna a theatrical bow.
“Dear lady, I am at your service.”
“Darling! You look wonderful.” Air kisses were exchanged
Belladonna stepped inside. Dante was just over six feet in height but in her spike-heeled boots Belladonna towered over him. She wore wraparound Christian Dior shades and had strong Slavic cheekbones. Her generous mouth was highlighted with a blood red lipstick and her honey blonde hair was cut in a severe bob that framed the striking contours of her face. Today she wore a formal charcoal jacket with nothing underneath and short skirt that clung to her sleek thighs.
“You look rather wonderful yourself.” Dante replied, eyeing her figure wolfishly.
A second figure plodded in behind her.
“Ah good evening, Sphinx.” Dante called out cheerily
As usual the Sphinx did not reply. He rarely spoke at the best of times.
The pale slab of an Englishman was tall and thickly muscled with bleached spiky hair. He wore his trademark black muscle shirt, jeans and unlaced jump boots. A studded leather cuff encircled one thick wrist and three surgical steel hoops punctured each earlobe.
The Sphinx was Belladonna’s public major domo and her private sub. He provided as an intimidating presence, should one be needed, in the rare event that a member stepped out of line at one of the Cercle’s gatherings.
Dante was more interested in the cargo the Sphinx carried almost absent-mindedly over his left shoulder. That would the recalcitrant novice. The woman was a wriggling bundle covered in a black silk shroud that was fastened with a drawstring above the head.
“Now let me guess,” Dante said, narrowing his eyes like a TV detective about to unmask the killer, “that would be the naughty little minx I am to discipline.”
“Of course,” Belladonna said. She folded her arms across her impressive chest and gestured sharply at the Sphinx with the point of her chin. “Put her down.”
The Sphinx did as he was told and Dante watched with interest as the bound woman tottered uncertainly. If he knew the preferences of Belladonna (and he certainly did) the woman would be gagged, her hands and elbows would be bound behind her and leather straps would be fastened above and below the knee and at the ankle.
“Well don’t keep a guy waiting,” Dante smiled, “let’s have a look at her.”
The Sphinx loosened the drawstring and the silk shroud dropped away, pooling at the bound woman’s feet.
“You know, she looks just like…” Dante mused. She didn’t just look like. She was. The corners of Dante’s mouth twisted up in a slight smile.
“That’s right, she is.” Belladonna gave him a sidelong look, “You see, darling, I wouldn’t just interrupt your Friday evening for anything.”
“Outstanding,” Dante breathed. “Has she been named yet?”
“Named? Yes,” Belladonna replied. “I have decided to name her Lorelei.”
“Lorelei?” Dante echoed, “As in the alluring, mythical siren whose seductive wiles lured German sailors to their doom?”
“The very same.” Belladonna sounded pleased with herself and her choice of name.
“Ha! Very appropriate, I approve. Lorelei she shall be.”
The novice named Lorelei stared right back at him, clearly unhappy about her current predicament.
He took a few seconds to appraise her properly. She was something to behold with long dark brown hair, a wide intelligent forehead, amazing cheekbones, strong jaw, large blue eyes and that oh-so-sensual mouth. Her body was lithe, strong and deliciously full-figured. With her wrists and elbows trussed tightly to the rear, her chest was thrust forward pleasingly, almost like an offering.
Dante raised an appreciative eyebrow. She was dressed in a very tight black T-shirt with capped sleeves. Her leather jeans looked very expensive and screamed Rodeo Drive whereas the chunky belt she wore with them looked like something she might have taken from a biker after kicking his ass.
As he had predicted, she was ball gagged, her full pink lips parted obscenely by a red ball.
There was a small gap between the hem of her T-shirt and the low-waist of her jeans exposing a strip of flat belly and a tattoo. Her legs looked strong and healthy in her snug leathers.
Dante sauntered over to her slowly, well aware of her suspicious and hostile glare.
He stroked his index finger lightly across the Latin inscription tattooed above her left hip. “What feeds me, destroys me. Intriguing.”
He stepped away. The tip of his forefinger seemed to sizzle in the knowledge that it had tasted the skin of one of the most desired and desirable women on the planet.
Dante raised his palms towards the Sphinx. “Is this any way to treat a lady? Remove her gag and her restraints.”
Belladonna interrupted, “Careful darling, this little pussy cat has claws.”
Dante grinned and gestured towards himself. “Hey, it’s me.”
The Sphinx unbuckled the red ball gag from Lorelei’s mouth. She gasped and licked her lips as the obstacle was removed but she knew enough to remain silent.
Dante watched as the ever-impassive Sphinx removed the rest of the young woman’s restraints. He knew she her profession required her to stay in excellent physical shape and he admired her toned litheness.
Finally she was free. She still hadn’t spoken but she glowered in Dante’s direction and rubbed circulation back into her wrists and elbows.
“See how obstinate she is,” Belladonna said with a shake of her head. “Do you think you can do anything with her?”
“I can but try.” Dante replied. He held Lorelei’s gaze with his own. She returned the look but eventually she had to blink and look away. He notched up a point on an imaginary scoreboard. Her first submission and the first step in gaining complete control.
Belladonna turned to her companion, “Come Sphinx, let us leave the novice with Master Dante. I have every faith she will be returned to us with a much better attitude.”
The Sphinx collected the restraints and ball gag and headed for the door.
“Darling, we shall return at midday tomorrow. That will give you all night to work.” The statuesque blonde brushed imaginary lint from her jacket.
Dante gave a short bow. “Then midday tomorrow it is. I stand or fall on my reputation.”
Belladonna and the Sphinx left, closing the door behind them.
Dante savoured the silence for a few seconds. Lorelei stood with her hands on her hips, weight resting on her left leg. She was waiting for him to say something. He rarely paid much attention to celebrities. His experience had taught him that bondage and discipline were great equalisers.
Celebrities were not uncommon in Le Cercle; they were always looking for that next kick, that next high. They rarely lasted long though, most were shocked that their media-endowed status afforded no special privileges within the society. This one was different though. He had heard interesting stories about her, that she liked to play and play rough. That she was ready to dish it out and take it too.
He decided it was time to break the silence.
“Alone at last.” It was an intentionally tacky line.
The actress rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“What, you don’t like men?” Dante asked innocently.
“Why, do you know any?” She retorted.
Dante’s laugh was a short sharp bark. He saluted her with his glass of water. “Touché. Now what’s this I hear about breaking the nose of one of our members? That’s very serious.”
“Yeah and you’re supposed to render discipline unto me or something.” She replied sarcastically, she made quote marks in the air with her fingers when she said the word, “discipline.”
“Oh I like you. You’re going to provide excellent sport. You might be wild and untamed now but I have every confidence I will break you and sort that attitude of yours out.”
“Dream on.” Lorelei replied. “Last night I broke some big German bastard’s nose. He got off lightly.”
Dante was taken with the way she held her body. She was completely aware of the effect she had on both men and women. Her eyes held a challenge that said she had been had before and she could be had again and that the challenge was well worth undertaking for the man who would try.
“I like your outfit.” He said. “ A friend once told me that fashion is just a ritual to attract a mate. How tight is your shirt to emphasise the shape of your body? How big is your belt buckle? How high are your boot heels?”
Lorelei gave a derisive little snort and started looking around the room.
“And here you are. I bet you think you’re pretty tough but I think you’ve been reading your own press. You don’t look like much to me.
“Oh yeah?” She grinned. “Well let’s see if you are as much of a man as you think you are.”
She came forward, bouncing lightly on her toes and bringing her hands up into a guard, tucking her chin.
Dante knew that as part of her preparation for a recent role she had undergone kickboxing and weapons training. She looked fit and strong. He was pleased to see that not every starlet was obsessed with yoga and minimalist macrobiotic diets.
“And what exactly do you intend to do now?” Dante said. He placed his empty glass on the coffee table and stood facing her, his arms relaxed by his side.
She smiled at him and shuffled forward.
Dante guessed she had done most of her training on pads and bags. A studio was unlikely to let its valuable star get into the ring with someone who would hit back. She had also been trained to exaggerate her movements a little so they would look better on screen. He had learnt to fight in gyms and dojos that smelled of sweat and tiger balm and where people didn’t pull their punches.
Her initial jab wasn’t bad. It would have stung if it had connected and possibly set up a right hand counter. But the punch did not connect. Dante slipped it, angling off to Lorelei’s left, his hands still held low.
“I heard you did some Thai boxing. That was more like Tae Bo.”
Lorelei’s face clouded and she charged forward whipping out a flurry of punches. Dante moved unhurriedly, slipping and parrying everything she threw.
“Your footwork isn’t bad but you telegraph everything.”
To her credit she kept up the onslaught, throwing a right roundhouse kick that he jammed with his upper arm. He swivelled and moved neatly behind her, slapping her hard on the butt.
“Told you I’d spank you.” He reminded her.
She stumbled forward and reached out to the couch to stop herself from sprawling. She spun to face him; white-hot rage pulsed off her in waves.
“See, it’s all about the footwork.” Dante shrugged. “Look, you are way out of your class here. I really don’t think you want to keep this up.”
She ignored him, raised her guard and edged forward. She had guts; he had to give her that. He reached up to his collar and casually unknotted his tie. It was a nice one from Jermyn Street in London and he was probably about to ruin it.
Lorelei looked at the length of material in Dante’s hand. What was he going to do, snap it like a whip and try and swat her ass again? Loser.
He might have some slick moves but she decided to give herself the satisfaction and at least breaking his nose before she gave up. She edged forward a little more cautiously this time, looking for an opening. Feint with a low kick and punch high, wipe that smile of his face.
She took a half step and was surprised as he surged forward. His instep slapped the outside of her thigh and he lightly slapped her cheeks before stepping away. She blinked as he moved away. Damn he was quick.
The hotheaded actress realised he was just letting her know how easily he could take her down. Nevertheless, pride dictated she go out swinging.
She charged, lashing out with a wild right hand. It would have scored big against an opponent who was inebriated or lacking experience. Dante was neither.
Stepping smoothly to the outside of the lunge, he slipped the looped end of his tie over her right wrist, cinched the loop tight and jerked hard. Lorelei lost her balance and Dante took advantage. He moved to the rear and yanked the captured wrist up and round her neck over her left shoulder.
He shoved Lorelei forward and into the back of the sofa. She bent over it at the waist. He stepped in close, pinning her there in an extremely suggestive position, his hips jammed against her shapely ass.
“Mm, this is kinda hot. Those leather pants feel good.” He teased.
“You fucker,” she growled, “I am going to take your goddamn head off! Let go of me!”
“Ever hear of hojo-jutsu?” Dante murmured, “it’s the ancient Japanese art of restraining an opponent using a cord or rope.”
He swiftly pushed the tie through the gap between her belt and leather jeans, pulled it through as far as he could, straining her arm further. He then yanked her left hand behind her back and secured this with the free end of the tie.
He backed off and the furious actress stood up and spun to face him. Her face was flushed with a mixture of exertion and shame and she was breathing hard. She wasn’t beaten though and still looked ready to fight on.
“You prick!” She snapped. Dante just grinned at her. He loved every second of this. The object of millions of men’s fantasies was in his grasp.
Despite being somewhat off-balance, Lorelei fired off a last desperate roundhouse kick which Dante easily avoided.
He stepped inside her range, dropped his hips and thrust her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“That’s enough out of you, let’s go and have a look at the playroom.”
He carried the squirming and cursing megastar down to the basement, humming to himself as he went.
Ah yes, he thought, this is going to be truly epic!
….
“Lorelei,” Dante whispered to himself. He rolled her name around his tongue, tasting it and all it implied.
She looked magnificent, a true work of art.
The stunning brunette was kneeling on a padded table. Her arms were stretched up overhead towards the ceiling where her wrists were buckled securely into chained leather cuffs.
A black silk blindfold covered her eyes and she was silenced with a German rubber pump-gag. Her ankles were strapped to the table meaning her insteps were laid flat on the table and her soles bared to the heavens.
It had not been easy getting her into that position and she had struggled like hell and cursed as he unzipped her boots and pulled them off. He had sat on the backs of her thighs while she squirmed beneath him. He had chuckled and taunted her whilst raising the cuffs of her jeans and drew down the zippers, exposing her supple muscular calves.
He had pulled her little black and red striped socks off with quick teasing tugs, revealing her pink soles inch by glorious inch. He had spent several long seconds just staring at her feet but he didn’t touch them yet. That would come later. The straps had gone over her ankles pretty easily after that and then it had been a matter of (regrettably) ruining his tie as he set about securing her wrists skyward.
His final, humiliating touch had been the addition of wireless headphone buds in her ears which were linked to an iPod playing what he called his “shoot me in the head mix” on a loop. It contained the cheesiest, nastiest pop he could find. Obvious efforts from Britney Spears and flash in the pan boybands lingered alongside car crash contributions from the likes of Milli Vanilli and Color Me Badd.
He had left her there for a while, her sensually muffled groans echoing in his ears. He had gone into his bedroom, stripped off his suit and taken a quick invigorating shower, alternating the water temperature between boiling hot and freezing cold.
Once showered, he had dressed in a pair of jeans and a black open necked cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
By the time he had wandered back down to his basement dungeon, his new prisoner had calmed down. He removed the headphones and the iPod, pulled off her blindfold and deflated and extracted the pump gag. He was kind enough to allow to her suck some water from a bottle of Evian, which she gulped down greedily. He enjoyed watching the play of muscles in her throat as she slaked her thirst.
Lorelei blinked at the light and looked around at her prison. Dark brickwork, leather, chains; crimson padding on immobilisation devices; all illuminated by thick white candles.
Dante dragged a chair along the ground, its legs scraping loudly across the concrete floor. He spun the back towards Lorelei’s pedestal and straddled the seat.
“So how are you settling in?” He asked casually. His forearms rested on the back of the chair.
She ignored him.
“Well that’s rich, a little while ago you couldn’t keep your mouth shut but now you don’t want to talk.”
“Fuck you.” She growled.
“That’s a commendable vocabulary you have at your disposal.”
She rewarded him with a roll of her wide blue eyes.
“Moving along, I suppose you know why you are here?”
“Yeah, yeah I broke the rules and you are supposed to instil some discipline into me.” She sounded bored.
“Correct. Do you know what that means?”
She shrugged as much as the chains would allow her. “Well that trick with the necktie was pretty good. Let me guess, some nawa-shibiri? Yeah, Japanese suspension bondage that’ll make my eyes water, maybe a little a submersion peril thrown in.”
Dante smiled and shook his head slowly.
“Well… that was a nice pump gag you used on me earlier. Long-term immobilisation in some kind of PVC sensory deprivation suit?”
Dante looked up and cocked his head to one side, as if he was really considering that one. Then he shook his head again.
Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Oh I am serious now, if all you can think of is spanking me until my ass glows apple red I am going to be so fucking disappointed.”
Dante laughed sharply and clapped his hands together once. “Sweetheart, you aren’t even close. I take a great deal of pride in my work and I go to great lengths to make sure everything is perfect.”
She looked a question at him. He stood up and started pacing around the room. All of my tools here, my “workbenches” are top of the range or custom designed to my exact specifications. I have spent thousands to ensure everything here is exactly as I want it.” He crossed to a shelf and took down a lacquered black wooden box. Then placed it on the padded surface in front of Lorelei’s knees.
“What’s in there?” She asked as Dante lovingly stroked the wooden case.
The metal clasps on the case were flipped open with dull metallic thunks. Dante reached inside and removed a plastic and rubber hairbrush.
“This cost me $3.98 from the pharmacy in town and it’s all I need to break you.”
Lorelei looked at him like he was nuts. “Really, perhaps you better hand me back to the blonde and her steroid gimp.” She was laughing as she said it. Dante laughed with her.
“Yeah, I guess this seems pretty funny, doesn’t it?” He stood behind her, reached up and began gently brushing her glossy dark hair. “Got a few tangles here,” he muttered, “that Sphinx, hell of a rigger but he doesn’t know much about female grooming.”
Lorelei looked over her shoulder. “So this is it? You’re going to brush my hair?” She sounded disappointed as if she had been looking forward to a challenge.
“Well, not exactly.” Dante replied. He put the hairbrush down. “Tell me how this feels?”
With no warning, his fingers reached around her body and began to vigorously probe her splendid rib cage. Lorelei yelped in shock and threw herself forward and backwards. Dante’s fingers stayed with her, probing and rubbing through her thin T-shirt. “Oh, well now it looks like someone’s a little ticklish.”
The stunning brunette jerked back and forth. She yelled at him to stop but she didn’t bleat hysterically like some of the women who had found themselves in the same position. Her exhortations were more in tune with a babysitter chastising a naughty charge that wanted to play cowboys and indians while she wanted to chat on the phone to her friends.
Dante was surprised, amused and intrigued all at the same time. It was as if she was laughing at him! Well no matter, he had established she was ticklish and for now that’s all he wanted to do.
He tickled her ribs for a few more seconds and then stopped. He had mounted the pedestal now and knelt behind Lorelei. His spoke quietly into her ear. “You like that, huh?”
She turned to look at him; her gaze travelled up and down, she appeared completely unconcerned by her predicament. “Yeah, s’fun.” She grinned.
“Fun?” Dante smiled. “Well if you like that, you’re gonna love this!”
All ten fingers, digging hard into her ribs, vibrating. Her head whipped back and he inhaled a heady mix of sweat, shampoo and excitement as her glossy mane stroked his face.
“Yeah, now this is fun.” Dante whispered, grinning like the Joker. “THIS is fun.”
Lorelei flexed and shook and laughed. She had a deep throaty laugh that was both womanly and sexy. It wasn’t a cute, girlish giggle.
He wasn’t even doing much at the moment, just poking and rubbing her ribs. Pretty standard stuff. Her reactions were very promising though. He had no doubt that once he really started to work her over he would have a hell of a time.
The beautiful star heard soft whispering taunts in her ears as her captor’s strong fingers ran free all over her ribs. She was starting to get a little pissed off now. The laughter was making her well-toned stomach muscles ache and she wanted a break.
“Cut it out, man. I SAID CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!” She yelled.
Dante cut it the fuck out. He was starting to get to her.
“What are you in fucking grade school? Tickling me? This is bullshit!” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. A lesser man would have freed her and burst into tears, desperate to win her favour. Dante was relishing the challenge ahead.
“What’s up? I thought you said it was fun?” He asked innocently.
“You’re pissing me off now.” She said. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breaths.
Incredible, Dante thought to himself. She’s securely bound in a bondage dungeon but she’s still carrying on as if she can leave whenever she wants.
“Ok then, we’ll stop the fun and get down to business.” Dante said. He picked up the hairbrush.
“You know why I like this one?” He held it up for Lorelei to see.
She shrugged with disinterest. “You like the way it makes you feel?”
“Hah, very droll.” He liked her immensely. “No, it took me ages to find the perfect tool. You see, too many bristles, the sensation becomes...muted, too few and it’s dispersed. You know what I mean?”
“Not really.” She muttered. She wasn’t even bothering to look at him.
“Well actions speak louder than words, let’s see if this helps.” He stepped behind her and pinched the pink globe of her left heel between his forefinger and thumb.
He dragged the bristles across her heel.
There was a small scraping sound followed by a startled cry. Lorelei’s body stiffened up, every muscle tautened like a startled cat.
He dragged the bristles along her arch.
An anguished yelp. A shudder. This was going to be good.
He watched as she flexed her toes back and forth and wrinkled her sole, trying to eliminate the lingering ghostly sensations of the hairbrush.
There was no smart-assed quip from her this time.
“See what I mean about the bristles?” Dante said. “You have to get it just right or you lose so much.”
He tightened his grip on her heel and dragged the plastic bristles along her arch once more. She yelped again, jumped as if scalded. He applied the bristles a third time. Always in the same direction, heel to toe.
“You’re a fucking weirdo, Dante.” She taunted, but there was a telltale tremor in her voice now.
“A novice is not permitted to use the name of an initiate, especially during discipline. You will call me Master or you will keep your mouth shut.”
“Screw you.” She hissed through gritted teeth.
Dante was smiling. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen next. I am going to have a fine old time tickling your feet. They are right here for me so there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. You can beg, you can scream, you can curse all you want but it won’t do you any good.”
For the merest instant Lorelei’s hip air of aloofness seemed to disappear. Blink and you miss it. She was quiet now though except for the telltale anxiety she revealed as her breath hissed through gritted teeth.
Dante was grinning to himself. He knew he had touched a nerve. He began to apply the flexible plastic bristles to the high, pink arch of her left foot.
She held her breath and bit her lower lip. He couldn’t see this of course as he was behind her but he was full conversant in all the body languages of the tickled and tortured and every move she made spoke volumes to him.
He scraped the bristles slowly around the soft pedicured roundness of her heel. Her buttocks tensed and shifted beneath her tight leather jeans.
“Oh yeah, I love the way your soles wrinkle and then smooth out. Let’s try that again.”
He forcefully bent her toes back and edged the bristles in a lazy winding path along the soft pads of flesh that lay next to the ball of her foot.
She shook ever so slightly. Her hamstrings flexed. Chains clinked up above as her shoulders tensed. She was putting up a good fight.
Dante switched to the other foot now. He let the bristles bend and flex as they kissed the outside of her sole and tentatively brushes against her instep.
She was starting to breathe a little harder now. Her chin was tucked into her chest and her eyes were screwed shut.
Dante started to apply the strokes with slow deliberation, counting aloud in a soulless monotone. He got as far as twenty-four before the first real cracks in her resilience started to show.
Her head whipped back. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…” She whispered to herself.
Her toes were spread apart and mercilessly stroked. Dante knew what he was doing. He touched her just enough to tingle, to itch and it was an itch that she had no hope of scratching.
He loved how her body moved. She didn’t so much struggle as undulate. It was an exceptionally sensual and intimate experience. At least, it was from where he was sitting. He guessed it was something altogether more trying for Lorelei.
The Sports Illustrated swimsuit model, the Slovakian actress, the R&B singer… They were all beautiful women who had tasted his singular brand of discipline but Lorelei was another creature altogether.
When he hit the mid-fifties she started to beg. The effort had taken its toll on her. Her long dark hair was a wild, tangled mane and her bare arms were shiny with sweat.
“God, NOOO!” She pleaded before dissolving in a heaving fit of laughter, the tension finally breaking loose.
“I give up! You win, you win, you fucker!” She cried.
Dante put down the hairbrush and regarded her with curiosity.
“Really?”
She nodded, her eyes were screwed shut and she was still shaking with laughter.
“I win, you give up?”
“Yes!” Her scream was tinged with an air of hysterical frustration.
“Cool.” Dante said. He picked up the hairbrush again and ran it along her glowing arch.
“Fifty six.”
“Stop!” She screamed, her voice high pitched and hysterical. “What are you doing?”
“Well just because you’ve had enough doesn’t mean I have. I could do this for hours. In fact I think I will.”
Plastic bristles rubbed along tortured flesh. “Fifty seven.”
“No, no, no you can’t do this.” She begged. “God I never realised what it would be like, it’s…it’s torture.”
Dante quickly grabbed her chin and lifted her head forcing her to look into his piercing eyes. “Exactly.”
Lorelei let loose a wild banshee like shriek and began to struggle for all she was worth. Supple muscles stood out on her arms and her knuckles turned white as she tried to get a purchase on her chains and rip them from the ceiling. Her leather jeans creaked as she thrust back and forth trying to loosen her bonds.
She was putting up a fearsome struggle but Dante just stood casually and watched in vague amusement. His bondage equipment was custom made to exacting standards and there was no way Lorelei was going anywhere.
“Fifty-eight.”
She wailed as he pinched the ball of her foot and scrubbed the plastic bristles in small teasing circles.
“You know the feet have the longest nerves in the entire body?” He murmured. “Fifty-nine.”
Dante’s intimate knowledge of nerve endings and pressure points was serving him well as he slowly and methodically punished Lorelei’s feet with each stroke of the brush. From time to time he would drag a single manicured nail along the length of her arches or squeeze the pad of her big toe.
He knew this kind of slow torture was excruciating. All the victim wanted to do was rub their feet or if they couldn't do that then they would have preferred a frenzied tickle assault but he drip fed the agony. It was much the same as the anticipation as a roller-coaster click, click, clicks its way up the starting ramp. Both parties knew this was only the start.
Lorelei had been tied up before and had played kinky games but she had never been in a situation like this. No safe words, no time limits and no mercy.
She begged, she pleaded, she swore, she threatened, she promised the kind of things that would make a prudish audience blush but it all fell on deaf ears. Her tormentor counted the brushstrokes in a maddening monotone and exploited her sizzling nerve endings with a sadistic relish.
By the time Dante reached one hundred strokes, Lorelei felt totally spent, she could scarcely comprehend he was only halfway done with her.
“Well, have you learnt your lesson yet, Angie?” He asked cheerily. He deliberately used the diminutive form of her name to add insult to ticklish injury.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” She glowered.
“Yes I am, and well done you for noticing.” He said in a patronising tone, tweaking her nose for effect.
“OK,” she said, she batted her eyelashes and looked at him through heavy lids. “I get it, you’re in charge, I am the naughty little novice and I’ve been punished.”
He looked at her for several long seconds. Her body was slick and shiny with sweat she was breathing hard, her glorious chest pressing at her tight T-shirt with each laboured breath. Her lips were wet and her hair was wild.
She radiated an animal intensity that seared itself into his senses and even when she was just being exhausted she thrilled Dante in ways few women ever had. He was achingly hard inside his jeans. What was more, despite her protestations he knew she wasn’t beaten yet, she just wanted him to give up.
“OK,” he tossed the hairbrush onto the floor. “Maybe we should give that a rest now.”
Lorelei breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that,” she muttered.
“Besides, why should the brush have all the fun?”
He locked his fingers around Lorelei’s left ankle and began to wriggle his fingers against her sole.
She let loose an agonised squeal and then a stream of profanity aimed at Dante, his parents, their parents and any pets they might have had. She let him have both barrels with such ferocity and inventiveness that any US Marines in the vicinity would have stopped what they were doing to take notes for future reference.
Dante was impressed but there was a protocol to be observed.
“Such a shame to have to cover those sweet lips but I can’t have you talking to me like that.” He wandered over to a chest of drawers and began rummaging. “You will endure what follows. Ah here it is…”
Lorelei’s eyes widened as he turned round to reveal a bright red ball gag.
“Oh shit,” she began, “not the gag, not again, please, I’m begging you now. I can barely tolerate this as it is but not the gag…”
Dante was not especially gentle about gagging her. He forced the ball gag into her mouth.
And buckled it behind her head. Once the ball was pushed firmly between her lips and she could no longer complain she made her feelings known through furious animalistic growling.
All that stopped as soon as he re-introduced his fingers her vulnerable, tingling soles. At that point the protests were replaced by agonised and muffled squeals of laughter.
Dante viewed the ballgag as perfect for this sort of work. It wasn’t designed to silence the wearer but limit their ability to express themselves with any authority or coherence so he could enjoy her laughter but without the sailor style profanity.
He worked on her toes, starting with the little toe of her left foot, tweaking it and stroking each sensitive millimetre of skin with his manicured fingertips. He rubbed and stroked with light deft touches, working his way up to her big toe and then moved onto her right foot.
A stream of drool ran out of the corner of Lorelei’s mouth as her laughter and screaming was impeded by the ballgag.
Dante obligingly wiped it off and then returned to run all ten fingers up and down her bound feet in an agonisingly extended display of tickle torture because for Lorelei, the tickling had very definitely reached the point of becoming torture.
It wasn’t just Dante’s sensitivity; his deviousness, his inventiveness or his experience that made him so good at this kind of work. He was a true professional.
Many who thought they had the stomach for this kind of work, who were used to safewords and other precautions would most likely have relented and released the object of their attentions. Dante always recalled a line spoken by Mr Han, the chief villain from the Bruce Lee movie, Enter the Dragon.
It isn’t easy to be totally ruthless. It takes more strength than you might imagine.
He was careful not overload her nerve endings. He just wanted her sensitive and receptive. It was a fine line and one he walked with the flair of an artist.
After another twenty minutes of this, Lorelei hung limply in her chains, her body sagged with exhaustion and heaved with each breath.
Dante was pleased to see a single droplet of sweat trickle down her nose. He wiped it with the tip of his forefinger and licked it off, sucking his fingertip for theatrical effect.
“A little salty, but very tasty”
She glowered at him, baring her teeth over the top of the red rubber ball that was jammed into her mouth.
Dante noticed her sagging and tutted. “Slacking off already? I expected more of you.”
He wandered off behind her, out of her view and turned a handle a couple of notches, lifting her slightly in her chains. Her thighs were now at right angles to the ground and there was very little slack in her chains.
With her arms raised higher, her chest was pulled up and thrust out and her T-shirt stretched upwards, revealing several inches of toned and tanned belly.
When she squirmed now all she could really move was her hips, which undulated with a captivating liquid grace.
“There, much better.”
He sat behind her now, cupped her heels tightly and began rasping his tongue up and down her arches.
She thrashed and moaned but continued to attend to her with the same maddening self-control. He prised her toes apart and lashed them with his tongue; he nibbled his teeth up and down the darling little joints of her toes and placed wet sucking kisses on the balls of her feet and her arches.
He loosened his shirt a little more. Was it just her or was it hot in here?
She fought him all the way, even though it was obvious she couldn’t win. She would hold on, dig in and almost seem to conquer the sensations that ran through her feet but then he would switch his techniques, swap hard for soft or vice-versa and she would lose it again. Spittle ran down the corners of her mouth and she gnashed her teeth against the red rubber ball plugging her mouth while she spasmed helplessly.
The way in which her stomach quivered and her hips swayed combined to create something sexier than the best belly dancers Dante had ever seen. It was a performance he could get drunk on.
Dante played her like an instrument, using his fingers, his mouth and the plastic hairbrush in marvellous synchronicity. Some might have said he was positively orchestral in his arrangements but he preferred to think of himself as a jazz purist.
As much as Dante needed to be ruthless, he also needed to be disciplined. He allowed himself to enjoy his work but he did not gorge himself. He straightened up and rubbed Lorelei’s soles with a tenderness that surprised her.
“OK, you’re done for now.”
Lorelei let out a long ragged sigh of frustration and relief and sagged in her chains. Only for a few seconds though, she suddenly thrashed like a scalded cat and glared his direction, growling and mouthing something that he guessed was a request to be untied.
He unbuckled the ball gag and pulled it from her mouth. He raised an eyebrow at the precise row of teeth-marks she had made in the spherical gag. Dante smiled and gave a little shake of his head. He wouldn’t be able to use it again but it would make a nice souvenir.
Lorelei’s thick dark hair hung down to frame her face. She glared up at Dante, breathing hard. She was trying to recover some semblance of composure and was furious at being so helpless.
Dante lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb and looked deep into her eyes. She stared back defiantly.
“It sounds like a cliché but you got a lot of spirit,” he said with a wry smile.
Lorelei flicked her chin free from his grasp and maintained her stare. Her deep blue eyes were locked onto his, unblinking. Her mouth was set in a determined line and her nostrils flared gently with each breath.
Dante remembered reading how the old Soviet military intelligence apparatus, the GRU, would train its agents to develop an intimidating gaze by having them visit the zoo and stare down lions, tigers, wolves and bears. The animals may well have been caged and barred but there was something primal and alpha about not being the first to blink.
He had also learnt that anyone who holds your gaze for more than 4 seconds generally wants to fight you or fuck you.
They had locked gazes for far longer than that but Dante could not say with any degree of certainty, which was on Lorelei’s agenda. He felt a surge of excitement and a small triumph as she looked away.
“So what happens now?” She asked. Her tone suggested she was not going to like the answer.
“I like to always start off with a few light strokes,” he said, deliberately playing down the havoc he had just wrought on her sensitive and beautifully shaped feet. “It lets me know a lot about you. You would be surprised how much your body language gives away when you are being tickled.”
“Big wow, so you know I am ticklish.”
“Ah, but now I know exactly what I have to…. No, scratch that, what I need to do to you.”
A slight widening of the eyes betrayed Lorelei’s anxiety on hearing that her ordeal was not over yet.
“Ha, you think that’s all you were going to get? I know you shot a movie in South East Asia and I know you were taught a little Muay Thai. You ever go and see any real bouts?”
“Yeah we saw a couple of local fights while we were over there. What the hell has that got to do with anything?” She replied irritably.
“The opening round, the fighters never really engage. They probe, they feint, and they launch little exploratory salvos to see what their opponent’s strengths and weaknesses are. They save the real stuff for the later rounds.”
Lorelei looked back at him, her beautiful mouth set in a grim line of determination.
“So that was just the opening round. Now we can get down to the main task.”
Dante stood in front of his captive, looking her up and down, fists resting on his hips. “But first, I think we need to a little adjustment here.”
He hooked two fingers into the waist of her jeans and pulled her forward towards him. She was looking down on him slightly in her stretched position. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Spyderco, thumbing the blade open in one fluid motion.
Lorelei’s eyes widened momentarily as she the knife appear in Dante’s hand. He slipped the tip into the collar of her T-shirt and began to cut. There was a soft tearing sound as the fibres were torn apart by the razor sharp blade.
With a flick of the wrist the hem of her garment was cut apart and the two halves of the ruined shirt fell apart. Dante flicked them aside with the tip of his knife. Lorelei wore a shiny black bra that cupped her full, fine breasts. Her tanned skin was smooth and rippled softly in time with her breathing.
She returned his gaze without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.
Dante nodded once in appreciation then cut the T-shirt from her body, tossing the rags carelessly over his shoulder. He looked at her again, not just clad in her leather jeans and her bra.
“That is so much better.” He said, his voice was slightly hoarse now. She never looked this good in any of her photoshoots. This was all for his own private enjoyment.
“I just have to make a few arrangements now and everything will be ready to go.”
He walked behind Lorelei and she craned her neck to see what the rumbling noise was. He was pushing a block; similar to the one she was bound on. He pushed this up against the first block and she noted he locked it into place. It was a longer block and she now noticed that the blocks had fixtures built into them as if accessories could be added to suit the user’s preferences.
Dante caught her inquisitive glances. “Trust me, I didn’t get this stuff from Ikea. A guy in Heidelberg makes this equipment to order and he does not come cheap.
“Boys and their toys,” she muttered.
Dante mounted the second block and scooted forward. He was now kneeling behind Lorelei with her bound ankles between his legs.
“OK, let’s get comfortable,” he scooted a little closer. She could feel his breath on her neck.
“When we tussled earlier, I could tell you had a fantastic body. I am not just talking about looks here; there are thousands of women in these parts who worship at the altar of the body beautiful. You are something else entirely. I see in you a hunger, a passion, and a burning desire. You are a very sexual creature and that neither intimidates you nor frightens you and you make no attempt to hide it.”
He rested his fingertips lightly on Lorelei’s sides but did not move them yet.
She looked over her shoulder and gave him a look that would have turned most men to jelly in a desire to ingratiate themselves with this demi-goddess.
“What is this now, psych 101?”
He chuckled, enjoying their verbal fencing. “No, it’s an observation.”
She kept her gaze over her shoulder, their eyes locked. Dante’s fingers began to stroke up and down her ribs and sides. They glided softly from the waistband of her jeans to stretchy material of her bra. She held herself as still as possible as the fingertips travelled up and down, raising tiny goose bumps on her sensitive skin.
The dungeon was silent save for the sound of their breathing.
The fingertips began to swirl a little on their travels, describing small circles, loops and whorls. Dante felt Lorelei tense her muscles.
He suppressed a smile and maintained his poker face, gazing deep into her fearless eyes as he continued to explore. His fingers slid down to her waist and trickled across her stomach, igniting the nerve endings of the smooth skin between her belly button and her belt buckle.
“Like that?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.
“S’okay.” Her voice was soft as fur.
His fingers ran lightly up the middle of her belly to just below her bra. She let out a ragged breath. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore and turned to face away from him. Now he smiled.
His hands rode up her sides and stopped, gently squeezing the bottom of her ribs. He felt her stiffen as her breath caught in her throat. His pointer and middle fingers began to wiggle while his other fingers and thumbs held her in place.
A tell tale exhalation of air from her nostrils. Dante licked his lips and intensified the manipulation of her ribs.
“You can let it out,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s just you and me here.”
“Fuck off,” she began, her voice broke slightly at the end as the fingers teasing her body eroded her defences.
Dante shuffled forwards until he was pressed right up against her. “Not yet,” he replied, “I’m having too much fun.”
Now he quickly pinched the sides of her waist. She yelped and jerked forwards in her chains.
Dante’s palms ran up and down Lorelei’s sides now as his fingers played merry havoc with her ribs and her sides. Her body pressed against his as she wriggled, her leather clad buttocks rubbed against his crotch.
Lorelei threw her head back and let out a long peal of laughter. Dante buried his face into the side of her neck; chuckled, told her this was only the beginning.
She didn’t curse him, she didn’t beg him to stop, and she just laughed with wild abandon. Dante knew what she was doing. She was giving her laughter full rein, hoping that she could ride out the ticklish sensations he expertly delivered to her torso. Well he’d give her a little more to think about.
His fingers clawed and squeezed rapidly up and down her sides, he dug in a little harder now. He found a sweet spot just below her bra strap that responded particularly well if he dug in his pointer fingers and made tiny circles with them. Her head whipped from side to side. She wanted to shout “No” but she couldn’t catch her breath for laughing.
“Whoa, what’s with all this writhing and rubbing against me? Are you trying to turn me on?” Dante asked with false incredulity.
“Fuck you!” She shot back, but the venom of her words was diluted by the uncontrollable mirth.
“Well maybe later but you should at least buy me a drink first.” He replied.
He was having a great time with her ribs and she had a fine pair of lungs. His strong fingers worked their way around the front of her body and then reversed to settle on her back (which, he found was responsive to gentle “waterfall” tickling fingers running from her neck to her hips.) He lingered on each pass at the sweet spots on her sides below her bra strap.
“No!” She squealed in a high pitch as he probed the taut flesh between her ribs. She thrashed from side to side and Dante found himself having to wrap one strong arm around her middle and clutching her to him so he could explore those sweet spots at his leisure. The lack of mobility made it all the worse for the bound actress and she screamed long and loud with laughter as Dante worked over one side and then the other.
He was an expert at pacing himself and reading the reactions of his captive. He would work her over mercilessly for about five minutes at a time and then pause, gently rubbing his palms over her hot skin to defuse some of the heightened sensitivity. Then he would start all over again; working her up to a fever pitch of ticklishness and holding her there until he deemed it was time for her to have another break.
When Lorelei had been bound and wrapped up in a shroud at the hands of Belladonna’s taciturn muscle mary; she had experienced a moment of trepidation as to what awaited her. If she had been told tickling she would have sighed in relief. She was certainly ticklish but how much of an order could that really be?
She was finding that out in spades. She had been expertly bound and teased. Strong arms held her in place while knowing fingers ran free over her magnificent body stimulating nerve endings in ways she had never imagined. All the while her captor whispered in her ear, teasing her, taunting her pushing her buttons, playing with her.
Her sides ached from laughing and droplets of sweat ran down her superheated skin. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it any more he would stop, give her a soothing rub, and let her drink a little water and then he would start all over again. It was like some kind of eternal punishment from Greek mythology.
It had seemed like hours when Dante finally gave her a longer break. She felt him climb down from behind her and she let out a ragged sigh of relief. She leaned her head against the inside of her left arm, blinking sweat and tears of laughter out of her eyes.
Dante stood in front of her. “You look hot. That’s OK, I’ve worked up quite a sweat myself, I guess it’s a little warm in here.” He grinned and lunged forward at her, his fingers wriggling and reaching for her ribs.
Lorelei squealed and recoiled as much as she could, the chains above her arms clanking.
“You know it looks like I could be getting to you, maybe just a little bit. Hmmm?”
She glanced at him and let her head sag.
Dante was sweating. He stripped off his shirt and balled it up. He took a towel from a rail and wiped his face and his arms.
Lorelei lifted her head slightly and looked him over. He was lean and muscled. He didn’t have the heavy bulk of the bodybuilder but the smooth unknotted musculature of the functionally fit.
Maybe it was the bondage and the intimate way in which he had been touching her while their bodies were in close proximity but Lorelei felt her senses come to sexual alertness. She noticed a wicked red line that started high on the left side of his chiselled abdominals and faded an inch from his navel.
She gestured toward it with her chin. “How’d you get the scar?”
Dante smiled and traced the edge of the scar with his fingertips. “That’s an interesting story. It’s true what they say though, chicks dig scars.”
She laughed at that. “Well let me out of here, cowboy and maybe I’ll give you another one.”
Dante stroked his chin with the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, I reckon you would too, but you look pretty good where you are so let’s just leave you there for a little while.”
Lorelei rolled her eyes and rubbed her cheek against her upper arm, arresting the path of a slow droplet of sweat. “So what’s with losing the shirt, you getting a little hot or you just showing off your bod?”
Dante gave her a broad grin. “You like what you see?”
She shrugged non-committally. He looked pretty damn good. She noticed he was holding a small translucent pump dispenser that looked like the kind of thing shaving gel came in. “What’s that?”
“Well I could tell you but I think if we’ve learnt anything today it’s that actions are far more powerful than words.” He depressed the pump and squirted a dollop of clear gloop into his palm with a wet squelching noise. He shoved the dispenser in his pocket and rubbed his palms together.
Lorelei recoiled slightly. “What is that? You aren’t going to put any of that stuff on me!”
Dante advanced on her, fingers outstretched. The actress tried to wriggle away as his fingers drew closer. She let out a small gasp as his hands slapped lightly onto her sides. The goo on his hands was surprisingly warm.
“Oh don’t…” She began.
His hands began to stroke up and down her sides, rubbing the gel over her body; they swept across her belly and up her back. He squeezed another dollop and rubbed it over her upper and underarms.
Lorelei huffed in frustration and tried to turn away but she had nowhere to go and Dante took his sweet time running his hands over her body, smearing her sensitive skin with the mystery substance.
He worked his fingers under the waist of her jeans and coated her hips, lower belly and lower back. She flinched and bit her lip, suppressing a grin as he swirled some into her bellybutton with his fingertip. He even dripped some of the goo onto her cleavage and stroked it over her throat and neck. Her skin had a light sheen of sweat already and with the addition of the strange warming gel she was positively glowing.
Dante stepped back to admire his handiwork. Lorelei’s brow furrowed and she began to shift uneasily from side to side.
“What’s the matter, ants in your pants?” Dante asked.
The warm gel Dante had massaged into her body tingled, it made her fidgety. She desperately wanted to rub her hands over her skin and try and remove the sensation but that was impossible.
“What the hell is this? What did you do to me?” A note of rising anxiety crept into her voice.
“A little concoction I had made up specially.” Dante answered casually. “You know those kinky, edible massage lotions you can buy? Of course you do. Well this is just like that with a kind of, um…itching powder after taste.”
Lorelei groaned and jerked around in her bonds.
“It seems to be making you a little squirmy doesn’t it? Maybe I can help you out with that.” Dante said.
“Ooh, you sick bastard.” Lorelei hissed, knowing full well what was coming next.
Dante mounted the bondage block behind her and whispered into her ear, “Sweetheart, you have no idea.”
He elicited a scream of surprise as squeezed her hips through her jeans and then he began a ticklish rampage all over his captive’s lush body.
“Nooo!” She howled and howled and screamed with laughter as his fingers ran over her skin, probing and stroking, teasing and squeezing. She was already weak and sensitive from the foot tickling and rib tickling and now this new torment seem to multiply everything she had felt before.
He had not really tickled her armpits before but he did so now. His bunched fingers scribbled softly in her smooth hollows raising banshee-like screams of delirium. He was elated with this result and experimented with different tickling techniques. One finger at a time. All fingers together. Stroking. Scribbling. He whispered into her ear whilst nibbling her lobes, asking her which tickled more. She was in no fit state to answer and he did not expect her to either.
Her beautiful, quivering belly suffered his attentions too. He pressed himself right up against her, one arm locked around her middle, her breasts rubbing his forearm as he wiggled a fingertip around the rim of her navel. She pressed herself into him as his fingertip dipped into the shallow cup, teasing the soft flesh at its centre.
She didn’t curse or call him names this time, she just laughed and cried and gulped and giggled and begged.
They were both sweating and breathing hard by now with exertion and excitement.
Dante smiled to himself, he fluttered his fingertips down Lorelei’s athletic back, eliciting a little shimmy from her. He picked up the little dispenser and squirted some more of his infuriating massage gel on the soles of her feet.
She gasped as the gloop slithered over her soles and Dante wasted no time in a forceful application. He exhibited his usual thoroughness as he rubbed it between her shapely little toes.
“Oh shit…” Lorelei whispered as she felt the now familiar tingling build on her feet. “Oh no…”
“Oh yes,” Dante whispered.
He reached behind him and with his left hand and began to scribble his fingers over her soles. She erupted instantly, unable to contain her laughter.
Dante pressed his rigid fingertips into her aching arches and raking them mercilessly. His right hand slipped around to dance up and down the centre of her belly. He squeezed her ribs, poked her bellybutton and ran his fingers under the waist of her jeans to tickle her hips.
The torment he unleashed was calculating and devious. It was bad enough to have your feet tickled or your tummy but both at the same time coupled with strict bondage was true torture for the ticklish, particularly when mercy was in short supply.
And oh what a show she gave him. She undulated and writhed with more abandon and eroticism than the best pole dancers or burlesque troop. Clad only in her tight leather jeans and black bra, she was a glistening sexual fantasy made flesh and that flesh was Dante’s to tease.
In the midst of the shocking sensations that were racking her fabulous form, Lorelei had an epiphany of sorts on Einstein’s theory of relativity. Time was indeed a relative concept. A few seconds of tickling to which one had no means of resistance could feel like hours. By the same token, a brief respite seemed to pass in the blink of an eye before the next session started.
Had she been sitting somewhere peaceful nursing an ice-cold Dos Equiis with a Hemingway-esque Moleskin notebook to hand she might well have recorded her thoughts on the matter. As it was she was twisting and shrieking beneath Dante’s merciless fingers like a woman possessed.
Dante recognised the sensual abandon rippling through Lorelei’s body. She was no longer self-conscious or resistant or defiant. For her now there was only the tickling. This was the moment when he felt supremely powerful. He was the puppet master and they were his beautiful and pliable marionettes.
Unlike his beautiful plaything, Dante never lost track of time during a session. He knew full well that fifteen minutes of his fingers devouring her slick skin would have been an eternity for her and he decided to change the tone of his ministrations.
The fingers that had scribbled her poked her soles and toes now soothed and stroked. The hands moving over her sides and her stomach caressed and nurtured. Little by little, Lorelei succumbed to these softer attentions. Her breathing slowed, her trembling subsided. She sighed with a mix of relief and gratitude.
Dante whispered into her ear. “You are magnificent. You are the untameable. Don’t you ever fucking change.”
Lorelei smiled and giggled like a schoolgirl. For reasons she could not understand she felt overjoyed to have received such a compliment from her tormentor.
His strong hands slid down over her hips and rubbed along her thighs, massaging and squeezing. His fingertips pressed and soothed the aching muscles. Lorelei leaned backwards, resting her head on Dante’s shoulder. She tilted her head into the crook of his neck and sighed.
He planted a soft kiss against her throat as he eyed the beating expanse of her chest below. She let out another soft giggle.
“That was intense. That was sooo fucking intense.” She breathed.
Dante smiled to himself. “Yes it was. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone take so much. Usually by this point, even the ballbreakers and crying and begging me to stop, promising me things that would make the moral majority spontaneously combust.”
“Something tells me that falls on deaf ears.” Lorelei murmured. She stretched like a cat and squirmed her buttocks against the throbbing hardess in Dante’s jeans.
“Ah, you know me so well.” Dante’s hands adjusted slightly, his hands continued to stroke her thighs but now his middle fingers traced the inner seam of her jeans, gliding tantalisingly close to her centre. He didn’t bother to say anything, instead choosing to spend a few lovely moments lulling her with his tender touch.
She licked her lips. He felt her hips move and press back into him slightly.
All in good time, he thought to himself. All in good time.
His hands rose up over her slick belly and ribs to cup her breasts. A breath caught in her throat. He could feel her heart beat jack hammering. He gently squeezed her through her bra, his thumbs swept over the satin cups, locating the stiffening buds of her nipples. He leaned back in to her neck and bit down. Not hard enough to draw blood or even leave a mark but it was enough to get her attention.
They froze for a few seconds, like an erotic sculpture of timeless sensuality and domination.
She was almost disappointed when the pressure on her breasts vanished and his hands dropped back down her body.
Dante’s fingers brushed over the waist of her jeans, over her belt and then insinuated themselves in her hip pockets. The probed deeper, seeking the sweet spots just inside the hipbones.
Lorelei let out a startled gasp as the fingertips hit home. She tried to bend forward but with her arms chained to the ceiling it was impossible.
“No.” It was more of a whisper than anything else, an expression of disbelief rather than defiance.
Dante’s mouth was still fastened onto her neck; he flickered the tip of his tongue against her and gave a small throaty chuckle. His fingertips wiggled over her hips. She squealed. The wiggled again. She let out a strangled gasp. His fingertips went berserk.
It was the one place on her body that Lorelei had found was ticklish to her own touch. One time a lover had been kissing his way down her body and when his lips had touched her there she had jerked so hard she had almost broken his jaw with her hip.
Bright white light exploded through her consciousness at the horror that this man to whom she had been ready, willing and aching to submit had found her ticklish pressure points and was now mercilessly exploiting them.
Once the shock faded there was only the realm of the senses. He was laughing. Was her laughing at her? Was he laughing because she was laughing? She was laughing. No, she was screaming, wailing, gasping. How was it possible, that a little tickling one on single spot could make her react like this?
“Oh, touched a nerve?” Dante bantered. He doubted she heard him, he didn’t care.
He nibbled the nape of her neck and flicked his tongue behind her ears. One hand slipped out of her pockets to caress her breasts and pinch her engorged nipples before plunging back in. He blended the sensuality and the torment with stunning expertise, sending his plaything hurtling from one to the other. Over and over. By the time he was finished with this little session she probably wouldn’t remember her own name.
His hands slipped out of her pockets again. The left plunged between her thighs to squeeze her mound, making her jump. The right spidered up her body to linger in her underarm, flickering at the soft hollows.
The hands alternated back and forth. One tickling the hell out of her pits the other lingering on her womanhood, stroking her through the hot leather jeans, tracing her lips, pressing, stimulating.
Lorelei threw her head back and let out an undulating scream of frustration. She was insanely aroused and tormented but she had no way of relieving either situation. She bucked her hips against his hands and tried to twist her body from his fingers but he denied her on both fronts.
He would stop. For how long? A minute? Maybe two? Then he started again, like a machine. Teasing and caressing. With each onslaught, he would tease her, whispering things in her ears, nibbling her neck.
She could feel her heart thumping hard, the pulse jumping in her neck. She couldn’t take much more of this. She simply couldn’t. She couldn’t even muster the wind to scream at him, to curse at him. Then again, unlike many that had preceded her in this dungeon of laughter, she had quickly learnt that her jailer was immune to threats and promises.
Her vision started to go blurry at the edges and breathing became harder. She knew what was happening, what was coming. She welcomed it.
Finally she finally slumped forward like a ragdoll, unable to take any more.
Dante mopped his perspiring brow and took a couple of deep breaths to slow his racing pulse. He was painfully hard in his jeans by now and probably needed a break himself. He pressed two fingers against the side of Lorelei’s neck and felt her pulse. Now he knew what it took to send her over the edge.
He took a soft terrycloth towel from a hook and gently rubbed her down, then did the same to himself. She would probably need a few minutes rest after all that.
He decided to go and make himself a smoothie, do a few push ups and pull ups, maybe hit the punchbag for a minute or two to take the edge off his own arousal and then he would come back down and pick up where he left off. There was still so much left to do.
…
Lorelei was still slumbering peacefully when Dante returned. He picked up a padded backrest and bolted it into the block just behind her feet. Then he bolted in a pair of stocks. Now came the dangerous part.
He lowered her wrists and uncuffed her. If she were to awaken now she could try to take his face off. Dante liked to live dangerously and the thrill excited him.
As it was, she did not awaken. He reached around her back and unhooked her bra and dragged it down her arms. He paused for a moment to admire her naked breasts. They were full and shapely with exquisite nipples, just as he had imagined.
He lowered her back onto the padded rest and then pulled her wrists over her head. The stocks were designed for wrists and he slipped them into the holes and secured the fastenings. She would not be able to pull her arms back through but he had a second measure built in. Each stock featured a tough inflatable bag like a blood pressure cuff that expanded to minimise the wriggle room for the captured wrist.
Dante stepped back and admired his handiwork. The stocks were slightly lower than the backrest, which had the effect of arching Lorelei in a most pleasing fashion. Her smooth belly was stretched taut and her breasts looked magnificent. There was nowhere for her head to rest and it hung back limply, her glossy locks cascading down to pool on expensive leather padding.
He nodded to himself. It was time to awaken sleeping beauty.
The brunette frowned and then winced as Dante cupped the back of her head and then waved smelling salts under her nose.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him, her breathing betraying her disorientation and nervousness. She groaned as he grinned down at her. She became aware of the airflow on her skin and realised she was naked from the waist up.
“I took the liberty of removing your bra while you were asleep.” Dante said. “You have phenomenal tits. It was an effort of will not to touch them.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure.” She said sarcastically.
Dante rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’ve got you chained up in a bondage dungeon. I could have done anything I wanted to you while you were asleep or awake. Get over yourself.”
She groaned and let her head fall back. She knew she couldn’t win here.
He placed his palm on her taut belly, spreading his fingers. “Besides, it is so much more fun when you are awake.
“What the…” She craned up to look at him, just as he bent down and flicked his tongue over her right nipple.
“Hey…!”
He silenced her with a single fingertip placed against her lips as his own moistened and caressed the glorious pink bud.
She groaned and arched as he expertly stimulated her nipples into a state of ripe arousal.
Satisfied with the fruits of his labour, Dante straightened up. “Now don’t go getting any funny ideas. I had to do that, so I could do this…”
He held up a gold chain with an odd looking clip at either end. She peered up at him, painfully aware of her throbbing buds.
He grinned at her, “Nipple clamps!”
She squealed as he swiftly applied a clamp to each quivering nipple. Gasping with shock, she realised it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. The pressure merely served to heighten the pulsating in her breasts.
Dante positioned himself in front of her and smiled. “Magnificent. Leather clad vixen with the body of a goddess served up on a platter for me to discipline. What could be sweeter?”
Lorelei was craning to look up at him but her neck muscles were straining so she let her head drop back again. That still left her in an uncomfortable position but right now it was the lesser of two evils. She had no doubt that once Dante resumed his duties that would be the least of her worries.
He pulled another block into place in front of her and straddled it. Then he started with her knees.
She twitched as his strong fingers and thumbs began to squeeze, digging in just above the kneecap. He applied pressure and made small circles with his fingertips. She snorted and wriggled a bit. Tried to crane upwards and rest her head against one outstretched arm.
“Comfortable?” He asked casually.
He began to lobster claw his way up her thighs, kneading the smooth, firm muscle through warm leather.
She groaned uncertainly as he approached her hips. She twisted awkwardly and pressed her face into the side of her arm, seeking to relieve the strain on her neck muscles.
Dante’s thumbs began tracing the shallow v formed by the juncture of her thighs, moving inexorably to her pulsing centre.
She bit her lip and moaned as he began to rub her there insistently. His free hand reached around to squeeze her butt and dropped down to lazily stroke her sole.
She giggled, her hips shifted, leather creaked.
Dante moved off his block and to her side. One arm slid between her thighs to tickle her feet again. His upper arm was pressed into her crotch, maintaining a sensual pressure there as his fingers drew patterns on her soles.
He picked up the chain linking her nipple clamps and gave it a few gentle tugs, eliciting gasps of pleasure. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, her brow furrowed slightly.
“I bet you wish I’d take those off, don’t you?” He whispered. “I know that you are aroused now.” His biceps rubbed hard against the centre seam of her jeans as his hand played with her feet. He tugged at the chain again, watching her breasts jiggle.
He reached around her back and tickled her side, poking her lightly in the ribs. She giggled and squirmed. He leaned forward and began to flutter his tongue against the hollow of her throat.
Now she groaned. Her back arched and her thighs squeezed his upper arm as he held in twilight of gentle tickling and erotic stimulation.
His mouth travelled down her body and she shuddered as his tongue circled her bellybutton, teasing, suggesting, promising.
He blew a raspberry on her tummy and she squealed. “Goofy.” She muttered. Dante was chuckling too. He blew another and then another.
The skin of her belly was smooth and inviting and he fluttered his tongue over it before plunging into her navel, swirling and licking.
He was momentarily overcome with an intense hunger and he sucked hard on her bellybutton. She let out a startled “ooh!”
“Heh, nearly turned your innie into an outie.” He joked, placing a gentle kiss on the glistening dimple.
All the while, she humped his muscular arm as much as she could while he teased her toes.
The tortuous tone was replaced with something altogether more sensual now. She was still being tickled and teased and she horribly bound. Yet for some reason she was enjoying it, more than that she wanted it.
Dante read the sensual shimmering of her body and flattened his palm on her belly. Then slowly, ever so slowly, his fingers oozed under the waist of her jeans and slipped onto the front of her thong panties.
Lorelei’s eyes snapped open. Her chest heaved, her lips were slightly parted. The huge blue eyes that looked into his were totally submissive. She was waiting, hoping.
His middle finger traversed the moist silk triangle and rubbed gently against her quivering lips and engorged clit.
She let out a long ragged breath. “Oh fuuuuuck…”
Her hips arched, trapping his hand on her dripping pussy. He reached up and gave the chain between her breasts a few gentle tugs. He pressed though slick folds of measurably thin material and teased her swollen lips and bud.
Dante breathed on her neck, fluttered his lips against it and she jerked almost as if scalded. “Mmm, ripe for plucking,” he whispered huskily.
He moved around to the block in front of her again ran his over body. He squeezed her thighs, butt and hips, stroked her sides, her armpits and her belly, he caressed and groped her breasts.
Then his fingers returned to her feet. She groaned and giggled as he lightly tickled her soles and pressed his face deep into her crotch, inhaling the heady scent of heated leather and steaming sex.
Lorelei’s heart pounded in her chest so hard she swore she could feel the chain on her nipple clamps jerking in time. Her pussy was dripping love honey and she was aching for a release. The pressure in her nipples was indescribable. It was torture, sweet, sweet torture.
Almost as if reading her mind, Dante travelled up her body and took her clamped nipples into his mouth one by one, sucking and licking the tormented buds with rare skill. He licked her navel again and then his hands were squeezing at her waist.
Lorelei gasped as she felt him undoing her belt buckle. She looked up to see him jerk the leather aside, flick open the snap of her jeans and pull down the zipper.
He didn’t even look at her. He wrestled her jeans off her hips and pulled them down her thighs.
Now all the covered her modesty was a thin triangle of silk. She held her breath. His fingers snagged the thin straps and ripped the thong from her easily, leaving her naked.
She shuddered with longing. His fingers gently drifted up her inner thighs. His fingertips tenderly teased and stroked her lips.
“Oh my God, that’s wonderful,” she whispered into the ether.
Dante licked his lips and pressed his mouth against her smooth, shaved mound. He licked her lips and stabbed the tip of his tongue against her engorged clitoris.
“Fuck, shit, no, stop…yes!” Lorelei reeled. She felt she was approaching a sensual overload.
He lapped at her gently, tasting the sweet nectar of her sex. His hands slid around to find her feet. He hadn’t planned things this way. Sometimes they just happened. Well, it was time to go with the flow.
As he fucked her with his mouth, he tickled her feet with his fingers. Teasing the longest nerves in the body, licking the sexual centre of a woman, ruthless bondage. It was an intoxicating combination.
His tongue whipped her into an erotic frenzy. She writhed from side to side as the tickling and the licking competed for the attention of her nervous system and came to an excruciating.
“Fuck me! Oh shit, this is….no no stop….no do it, don’t stop! Yess!” How much was too much. Lorelei didn’t care. Oscars, movie deals, the press, her career… Right now they were all flat, boring secondaries. The only thing that existed was the sensual tickle fucking being meted out by a master.
She felt an urgent trembling in her loins as the waves of her orgasm built up like the tsunami in a Kuniyoshi woodblock print. Ticklish sensations multiplied the orgasmic pulsing emanating from her centre.
“Yes, yes…fucking yes!” She was so close.
Dante backed off, his stubble scraping gently against her smooth inner thighs. He let go completely.
She teetered on the brink. The waves began to calm. She screamed with frustration. Her nipples throbbed like mad.
“Another kind of torture. Denial.” Dante said bluntly.
She was almost crying now, tears of frustration pricked the corners of her eyes. All she wanted was to cum. Why wouldn’t he let her cum?
His mouth was there again, licking her pussy, his tongue probing. She gritted her teeth, determined to resist his wicked game but she soon felt the hot waves of liquid fire building.
He brought her close. He backed off. He brought her close. He backed off. He taunted her with the excruciating cycle of arousal and denial for what seemed like hours.
Lorelei trembled uncontrollably in her bondage. Her fabulous body glistening with sweat. She felt like she was a bottle of soda that had been vigorously shaken and if the top weren’t taken off she would explode.
He brought her close; he tickled her feet, more licking, more tickling.
Oh God she hated him for doing this to her. No she loved it; she had never been touched like this before. The bastard. Fucking amazing.
He brought her close, closer. His expert tongue plundered her aching pussy ruthlessly; his fingers were maddening on her sensitive soles. He reached up and plucked the clamps from her nipples. She screamed as blood rushed to her tormented breasts, engulfing her chest in a pleasure/pain she had never imagined possible. His other hand played with pussy and she started to cum against his hand.
He gave each nipple a suck and then returned to her crotch, licking and slurping up her pumping love juice whilst tickling her feet.
Lorelei had the orgasm of her life. Bright white light exploded in her sensorium and she thought she would pass out.
Dante held her there at the peak of the climax, tickling, sucking.
Eventually, the orgasmic waves calmed.
The fingers kept tickling her feet. Why was she so sensitive now?
“Enough, really,” she giggled.
He carried on stroking her soles, squeezing the pads of her toes.
“No really, please!”
He kissed her pussy lips.
“NO!” She squealed. She was so sensitive, this was excruciating.
He kept it up for three minutes, tormenting her ravished body as he had done for hours.
Lorelei screamed and begged him to stop. The waves began to stir again.
“Oh fuck no, you’re going to kill me!”
Dante ignored her and continued to arouse her.
If the first orgasm had hit her like a tidal wave, the second was like a car crash, hard and fast and she nearly gave herself whiplash.
He kept it up, lapping up the juice of her sex and tickling her feet whilst making her cum over and over. He was amazed at her stamina although he doubted she’d remember her own name by the time he was finished.
Lorelei was lost on a rollercoaster of erotic shocks. She couldn’t control it, or stop it and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to end. It was like an endless outpouring of hot, brilliant white light that pounded through her and threatened to engulf her, mind, her body her soul.
But even she could only take so much. Shuddering from yet another powerful climax she grunted hard through gritted teeth and then collapsed, exhausted, empty, thoroughly spent.
Dante stood up and stretched his back, easing out the kinks in his muscles. He licked his lips, the aching throbbing in his jeans still unsatisfied.
He took several deep breaths in through his nose and expelled them forcefully through his mouth.
“I think you’ve earned yourself a little rest.” He muttered to the sleeping woman.
He carefully undid Lorelei’s restraints and massaged her ankles and wrists.
He stood her up and she lolled against him, her jeans pooling around her ankles. He bent down and scooped up her bra and then hoisted her onto his shoulder.
He carried the slumbering upstairs and deposited her gently on the sofa. He removed her jeans completely and then covered her with a blanket.
She looked like a fresh faced college girl now, fast asleep under the blanket. There was no trace of the smart-mouthed hellion who had been deposited in his lounge several hours earlier by the Sphinx. Her face was smooth and unlined and there was slight smile at the corners of her mouth. Dante metaphorically patted himself on the back. A job well done.
But there was still the matter of his tumescence to address. He usually had a number of women he could call upon but after applying himself so vigorously to Lorelei, he felt that any of them would prove disappointing tonight. He wandered upstairs where he planned to take the matter in hand himself.
….
Lorelei awoke from a deep slumber, arching with feline grace. She ached from her hours in bondage but her body was still bathed in the afterglow of tempestuous sex. She was relieved to find she was unbound, although naked. She realised she was in Dante’s living room although she couldn’t remember how she had arrived there.
The first thing was that was she still exhausted. The body she had so proudly honed had all the power of a wet noodle. The second thing she realised was that there was a delicious smell of cooking wafting in from the kitchen. She realised she was ravenous and rubbed her grumbling tummy.
She swung her feet to the floor and noticed that her leather jeans and bra were neatly folded on the coffee table along with the black shirt Dante had been wearing earlier. She stood up and put her jeans on and then her bra and then slipped into the shirt without bothering to button it.
She padded softly into the kitchen, brushing a wayward lock of hair behind her ear.
Dante was wearing jeans and a grey T-shirt. In one hand he was nursing a bottle of Asahi Super Dry whilst the other busied itself with a hissing wok.
“Ah, you’re awake.” He said with a smile. “I’m just whipping something up to eat. Hungry?”
She nodded and stifled a yawn. It felt strange to see him like this. A few hours ago he had taken her to sensual heights she hadn’t believed possible and now here he was cooking and nursing a cold beer like any normal guy. A strange heat suffused Lorelei’s cheeks and she realised she was blushing.
He walked over to her and put his arms around her. At first she thought he was going to hug her and she started to respond but then he firmly pulled her wrists behind her and she felt the cool pressure of metal bracelets on her wrists as he snapped a pair of cuffs in place.
She looked up and pouted, disbelieving that she was still under discipline.
Dante tapped her on the nose with his forefinger. “Let’s see if you’ve learned to behave.
He filled a plate with food and sat her on his lap. He fed her but teased her at the same time, moving forkfuls of food away as she moved her mouth towards them. His hands found their way under her shirt to tickle her and pinch her waist, distracting her as she tried to eat. She squirmed and giggled in his lap, enjoying the game and the attention.
Soon enough the shirt was pooled around her wrists and she was squealing as Dante made her beg for each mouthful of food. As his tickle toy she was denied beer but he did allow her a drink of water.
Lorelei was still exhausted from her ordeal and with some food in her tummy, her eyelids started to droop again. She was dimly aware of Dante carrying her up a flight of stairs and then into a dark panelled room and towards a king sized bed.
…
The vibrating cellphone didn’t make much noise but Dante was a very light sleeper and instantly came awake. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm and then he answered his phone.
“Hello?”
“Bonjour, darling, it is I, Belladonna.”
“Hey, good morning gorgeous.” He said with a smile.
“And a very good morning to you. Now tell me, how is our recalcitrant novice today?”
Dante looked over his shoulder at Lorelei. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the wrought iron bedframe and although it hadn’t been strictly necessary, he had placed a pillow under her back to stretch her belly and accentuate the thrust of her breasts. As a finishing touch he had placed three overlapping strips of duct tape over her mouth.
“Oh, she’s fine, just sleeping now, I’ll wake her up.”
He leaned over, pressed his face into her stomach and blew a loud, wet raspberry.
Lorelei’s eyes snapped wide open and she screamed something unintelligible behind her tape gag.
“It’s Belladonna,” Dante said, holding up the phone. “Do you want to speak to her?”
He listened to her muffled protests with an amused grin. “Didn’t think so, well I’ll tell her you said hello anyway.”
He turned back to the call. “So what’s up, Miss B?”
“Well I just wanted to make sure your work is done and that I should send Sphinx to collect her at midday as agreed.”
“Midday?” Dante said, rather too loudly and for Lorelei’s benefit. “I don’t think so. You see, she’s quite the naughty girl and I think she needs extra special treatment to ensure good behaviour from now on…. How about you send the Sphinx to collect her at midday tomorrow?
Lorelei shook her head in disbelief and yanked at her bonds.
“Really? Wonderful.” Dante continued, he flickered his fingers in an exposed underarm and was rewarded with a squeal. “Yes, well I still have a lot to try on her. I haven’t used the Hitachi on her yet and we’ve only really tried a couple of bondage positions so far. There is so much I could do with her.”
Lorelei was groaning hard, trying to blow the tape away from her lips.
“Midday tomorrow then. Wonderful!” Dante called out cheerily. He ended the call, tossed his phone aside and placed his hands either side of Lorelei’s body, his face close to hers.
“Now that we’ve got to know each other a little bit we can really start to have some fun.”
She shook her head and pleaded with her eyes. If she weren’t gagged she would have happily told him they could fuck all weekend but she couldn’t stand the idea of anymore tickling.
Dante chuckled and traced his fingertips over her pronounced ribcage. “Oh yes, sweetheart. I have got some big plans for you.
…
EPILOGUE
California, summer 2005…
Dante sighed; these starlets could be a pain in the butt. He looked at the prissy specimen bound before him and decided he had really preferred her with dark hair. He wasn’t keen on her new blonde look. She had been named Bliss within Le Cercle although he was beginning to think Harpy might be more appropriate.
She was screaming at him and threatening him with violence and legal proceedings unless he released her immediately.
He looked her up and down, leather chaps, cowboy boots, sequinned bra. She had a toned, tanned body and big dark eyes and her similarly adorned image currently adorned the room walls and screensavers of thousands of young men across the world.
Of course in those images she probably wasn’t bound in a “Y” position with her arms stretched up to the ceiling and her tiptoes barely grazing the floor.
Clearing his throat loudly, Dante ignored the young actress’ outbursts. “Someone told me the character you play spends most of her time in the source material with her breasts bared and yet you kept your bra on. What’s up with that?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Aw fuck you. You’re just another old pervert.”
“And you’re just too precious for words.” He teased, reaching out to flip her nose with his thumb.”
She fumed back at him. “So what’s this fuckin’ punishment you are supposed to carry out? You wanna see my tits, is that it?”
“Sweetheart, I am sure you have lovely breasts but really, get over yourself.”
Her cheeks blazed hot with anger.
“Just leave me the fuck alone OK? I’m not in the mood.”
Dante shrugged. “Who said I am going to do anything to you?”
She looked confused now. “But I thought…”
The nubile young actress’ words were cut short by the gunshot crack of boot heels on the cold stone floor. She tried to look over her shoulder at the newcomer and gasped when she saw who it was.
“You’re…” She began.
“You will address me as Mistress Lorelei,” the newcomer interrupted sharply, “And your sweet little ass is all mine.” She illustrated the point by slapping one of the actress’ firm round buttocks with a leather-gloved palm. The starlet yelped.
Lorelei stepped around the bound woman, surveying her with mischievous, calculating eyes. She let the fingertips of her gloved hand trail across the bound blonde’s smooth belly, eliciting a shiver.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were a member here. I just joined and…” The starlet gushed.
“Shut your mouth, sweetheart. Speak when you’re spoken to or else.” Lorelei said strictly as she played with the slim riding crop on her belt. Her long black hair was styled in a high ponytail. She wore a crisp white blouse, jodhpurs and long black boots.
“What happens now?” The blonde asked. Her bravado and defiance seemed to shrink as she watched Lorelei slowly tug off her black leather gloves.
“What happens now? I’m going to tickle you, that’s what’s going to happen now.”
“T-tickle me?” The young actress suddenly felt horribly vulnerable. Goosebumps broke out on her skin.
“Yeah,” Lorelei breathed sexily. She stepped behind the younger woman and placed her hands on her hips, savouring the sensation of her prisoner’s taut young body. She used a line she had heard someone else use. “And I don’t just mean, poke, poke, giggle, giggle tickle. This is going to be tickling like you can’t imagine. It just never stops.”
“No you can’t do that!” The actress blurted.
Lorelei clamped a hand hard over the blonde’s mouth. She leaned her cheek against the blonde’s and sighed. “Dante honey, I’ve got a bitch of a hangover today. You think you could get me something from your gag collection? I really don’t wanna listen to this little one screaming until the Tylenol kicks in.”
“You know I think I have just the thing.” Dante grinned.
As he rummaged around for something that would look just right fastened between the whimpering blonde’s pouting lips he reflected on that unforgettable weekend two years ago.
In his mind the best ticklers were split into two categories. There were those who were devious and interested enough to learn ways of playfully, sensually or sadistically administering a tickling. Then there were those who tickled from the experience of finding themselves on the other end of the fingers and feathers. He found the latter variety to be more inclined to sadistic tickling.
He had seen the potential in Lorelei for tickle torture and had spent a long weekend subjecting her to the most devious and tantalising ticklish attentions he could imagine.
Subsequently he had engineered other situations to place her under his charge. She hadn’t realised it at the time but he was training her, honing her. He began to let her watch him administer discipline to others and when the time was right, he allowed her to take a more active role in proceedings. Her appetite for the work had been voracious in the extreme and she showed an inventiveness and creativity that sometimes surprised even his jaded aspect.
He looked at the gleam in her eye as the trembling blonde whimpered at the thought of what she was about to endure.
It was moments like this that made it all worthwhile.
This was going to be epic.
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