Page 95 of To Save Him

It felt unreal somehow that Brandon and I were experiencing this together and yet sharing it with a group of people who were just as invested in the end result.  As I continued to ease Brandon closer to orgasm, I could feel myself growing wetter between my legs and wondered what would happen once I swallowed his cum down.

I would probably be disappointed, because I knew I wouldn’t want to do anything in front of all these people, a majority of whom seemed to be male.  No way.  And I also knew that, if the kids were still up when we got home (and aware of the fact that Brandon and I had gone on a “date”), I wouldn’t want to retire to the bedroom, either.  So I knew I could either try to talk Brandon into car sex or I’d have to suck it up until much later.

Still…the tingly, throbbing need between my legs was hard to deny.

He pulled out and teased himself by holding his cock and slowly sliding it in and out of my mouth.  I got the feeling he was close but wasn’t ready to be done yet.  I gripped his hips, hoping they would give me some leverage in this contest, but then he stopped thrusting and said, “No.”  I looked up with just my eyes, his cock resting in my mouth.  “Put your hands behind your back.”  I tried to swallow, having no idea what my eyes were communicating.  “Don’t make me tie them there.”

Oh.  Domineering Brandon was back.  I should have felt fear to my core but instead I felt more dampness between my legs.  I did as he’d ordered, peeling my fingers off his cock and joining my fingers together at the base of my back, trying to hold them still.  It was then that he once more coiled his fingers through my hair, his palms cupping my scalp, and he started to fuck my mouth.  I could sense my gag reflex emerging, but I couldn’t even do that as his swollen cock filled my throat.  It was then that I forced myself to relax, closing my eyes and trying to enjoy the sensation.

Only there was notrying.

I was.

He had taken full control of my body and I was a mere vessel for his will.  It was then, giving myself to him, that I felt a calm wash over my soul.  In spite of the physical discomfort, the smell of the room, the sounds of self-pleasure, and even the pain of my knees digging into the wooden floor, I felt at peace.

And then his hot seed filled the back of my throat before making its way deeper inside.  I took in one deep breath after another through my nose in between swallows, imagining that Brandon would be pleased with me and I would likely be rewarded later that evening, long after this was over.  My clenching pussy, my begging nipples would have to wait for satisfaction.

Brandon finally pulled himself out and it was with an empty mouth that I took a long, deep breath of air.  I wanted to shift to relieve some of the pressure off my knees, but at this point I was completely obedient.  I didn’t want to do anything now unless he told me to.  He zipped up his slacks and held out his hand to me.  I took it, glad to stand and relieve my aching joints.

I saw all eyes around the room on us—or, rather,feltthem.  I could imagine I saw their eyes, but I really couldn’t, not from where I stood.  Instead, I saw slits in masks.  And, with the feeling of their stares, I began to feel a sense of judgment.  The serenity I’d enjoyed moments earlier was being overtaken by a sense of wantonness, of filthiness.

I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Brandon said—to whom I wasn’t sure, “Bring us the cross.”

If I’d been a rabbit, I would have either frozen in place or started darting toward the first shadow that looked safe.  I turned my face from the door to him, but I didn’t know if he could see the question in my eyes underneath that damned mask.  But I gripped his hand, hoping he could understand the trepidation in my gut.

He must have, because my fingers were digging into the flesh of his hand, and he turned to me.  I heard movement across the floor but Brandon brought his lips to my ear.  No one else could hear, but his words seemed loud to me.  “Kimberly, you need to let go.  You need to stop worrying about what everyone on the planet thinks of you.  No one here cares who you are or what you’re doing here.”

I shook my head and moved so that I could see his face.  Even though it was under the mask, I could still see the glint in his eyes.  I whispered, “No, Brandon.  Not here.  Haven’t I done enough?”

His head moved to one side and then the other, and it was like I was watching his denial of my supplication in slow motion.  “Don’t do this for me, Kimberly.  Do this foryou.”

I could hear something heavy being dragged across the wooden floor behind me. Feltmore than heard, because its feet were covered in some kind of felt, easing its journey across the room.  But I must have seen it in the shadows when we’d come in the room, must have sensed its plans for me.  I turned and glanced and, behind me, saw a large x-shaped cross.  It was over six-feet high and looked to be made of wrought iron.

It looked like a medieval torture device—that it was designed to give that impression wasn’t lost on me.

I turned back to Brandon and he nodded.  He wanted me on that thing.

My mind ran through all that had happened that evening.  My breasts were still bared for all to see and I’d nearly choked on his cock in front of more than ten strangers.  Why couldn’t I let him fuck me on this cross?

And that was how I’d decided Icoulddo it after all.

I clenched my jaw and turned to look again.  There were two men standing beside the cross, and I tried not to think if they were simply there because they’d moved the heavy object to the foot of the bed or if they had more sinister reasons for being there.  I swallowed and backed up and, as I did, I could see a pleased look cover Brandon’s face.  Mask or not, I could read that expression and knew this was what he wanted.  Perhaps what he needed.

The men beside the cross wasted no time in bending over, restraining my feet onto the cross with leather cuffs attached to chains.  Brandon moved closer and lifted my right arm into position.  In turn, I raised my left, and he leaned in toward my face.  I could barely hear him when he said, “I love you, Kimberly,” taking my breath and my sense away.  His lips touched mine then, and I suspected no one in this room cared about our little romantic story unfolding in front of them.

Helovedme?

His passionate and sweet kiss consumed me as the men cuffed my hands to the cross.  My limbs were spread and stretched to capacity when Brandon pulled away a few inches.  He snaked his fingers inside my panties and then made a fist.  I could feel his strength by the way the thin fabric responded as the elastic waistband cut into my back.  He glanced at the man to my right and there was some exchange between them—the look from Brandon, a return nod from the man.  The other man, a pasty shirtless guy, walked back to the chairs and sat back down.  When the other man returned from the shadows, he handed Brandon a pair of long silver scissors and then disappeared again, but I heard him doing something behind me.  A rhythmic, twisting sound resulted in the bands around my ankles and wrists tightening, pulling me so that I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to.

I was now completely at Brandon’s mercy.

What the hell had I agreed to?

Brandon pointed the scissors at me and I saw the man pass beside me.  While I felt a little relief that it was once more just Brandon and me in the middle of the room, I felt my belly clench as Brandon moved the scissors closer.  But, in seconds, he brought them down, splayed, over my panties, so that he could cut them apart.  Even though he cut them on the one leg, though, they clung to my other leg until he snipped them there as well.  But he tossed the scissors on the bed behind us and then grabbed my panties and pulled them so that the second cut he’d made ripped.  It gave way easily until it got to the elastic on my thigh, but a little more effort pulled them the rest of the way apart.

And now I was completely exposed.

---