Page 12 of H Is for Hardcore

“That’s right, Mr. Friar. There is pleasure in pain.” A gentle nod of her head and one of the girls picked up the candle, letting the wax drip down over his cock. He pulled back at first but then steadied his mind, letting the pain become pleasure.

“There is ecstasy in losing control, life in being on the other side,” Michelle told him, removing her finger and replacing the butt plug. She took a length of soft nylon rope and began feeding the end to one of the naked girls who looped it around his legs, running it all the way up both. He could see his erection pulsating now, the restricted testicles making it seem much, much larger. Once the rope was around his waist, Frank reached forward and pulled, the loops tightening around him until his flesh threatened to burst underneath.

“There are sensations you’ve never known, Mr. Friar, simply because for your entire life you’ve refused to let go. That’s all you have to do, Benjamin. Let go.”

The veins in his legs bulged all the way to his cock. Michelle grasped it firmly in her hand, and he could feel every inch of her flesh on his, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. She stroked his cock softly, up and down, slowly, and Benjamin gasped, no longer from pain but from sheer ecstasy. It only took a few more silent seconds of stroking from Michelle’s hand before the climax rushed forward from his testicles, stopped at the binding of silk. With a simple flick of her wrist she undid the small tie, and Benjamin’s head throbbed with stars. It was the most powerful climax he’d ever had.

The room was silent for a few moments as his body went limp, completely drained.

His arms were freed, the nylon rope and clothespins removed. One of the girls washed the lubricant from between his asscheeks after she removed the butt plug. The lashes across his chest were tended to, and the girls helped him slip into a soft white robe. Later, as he was soaking in a steaming hot bath, Michelle joined him, her legs intertwining around his.

“I hope the experience was all that I made it out to be, Mr. Friar.”

He nodded in agreement. It was, and he’d already envisioned an amount of money for payment greater than a lot of people made in a year. “Just one question, though.”

Her eyebrows raised as she leaned forward, smiling. “Yes?”

“Next time do I have to be kidnapped? Or can I just show up here?”

JEAN ROBERTA

IN THE HOLD

HONEY, DO YOU THINK she’ll find a buyer for the house?” Amy asked. She lay with her head on Michael’s chest, her long brown hair in a silky tangle under his nose. They were entwined on his king-sized bed, which dominated the one small bedroom in his basement apartment. The place was less a love nest than a temporary refuge along the highway of Michael’s life.

Amy was trying to make the best of things. She didn’t want to think about Carla, Michael’s brisk, sharp-featured wife, but her image invaded Amy’s mind whenever she tried to imagine her future with Michael.

“If she beats the bushes,” he sighed. Amy had met Carla before she and Michael had given in to temptation. Carla tended to be very direct about what she wanted. And apparently that was what Michael didn’t want. Not anymore. Amy could imagine Carla beating bushes to drive a lurking house-hunter into the open and then cornering him into making an acceptable offer. It was a strangely exciting image.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just cut the knot and leave town, alone and free?” She knew how quickly men escape when they feel trapped or hunted. Amy didn’t want to rely on false hope.

Michael sat up and savored the sight of his girlfriend’s high, pointed breasts, crowned with large pink nipples. Her hair flowed romantically over them, and she looked completely different from a snappy, short-haired wife focused on the spoils of divorce.

The man slipped a wiry arm under Amy’s slim waist and pulled her to him. “I’d like to sail the high seas,” he growled thrillingly in her ear, “beyond the reach of Her Majesty’s laws. I’d be a salty dog with a captive princess on my ship.”

Amy squirmed and squealed. “Am I the captive princess?”

“Aye, wench, that you are,” he assured her. Michael affected a piratical squint, as though gazing into the future across a boundless glassy ocean. Amy loved this side of him.

Before she guessed what he was planning, he pulled one of her arms to the cold brass headboard and wrapped a belt around a corner post, buckling it around her wrist. She laughed and rolled to her side, reaching up to free herself.

He lowered his mouth to one nipple and sucked it in past his grazing teeth. He flicked it with his tongue, and Amy felt the echoes in her clit. Her hips rocked subtly, as if by instinct, and she lowered her knees.

Michael pulled away, deliberately tugging the nipple in his mouth until it was stretched to an almost unbelievable size. He left it exposed to the air as he seized one of Amy’s shins. That was when she noticed that lengths of chain and Velcro cuffs were attached to each of the brass posts at the end of the bed. Michael had carefully prepared for this scene.

“Oh, Captain,” she begged dramatically, “what are you going to do to me?”

“Make you a woman, my dear,” he growled, showing his teeth. He held one of her ankles and fastened a cuff around it. “’Tis what you need. You will not be satisfied until I do.”

“You brute!” she wailed, trying to free her trapped foot. Flashing her a wicked grin, Michael reached for her other leg. As she tried to shake him off, she gave him a clear view of the moist pink lips framed by the curly brown hair between her thighs.

“What a beautiful clam,” he told her, stretching out his free arm to slide two fingers into her opening. “With a pearl just waiting to be found.”

Amy felt lusciously violated, as though she were really a sheltered virgin whose life could be changed completely through this deflowering. “Oh!” she squealed, not caring who heard her. “Sir! I’ll be ruined!”

“Not so,” chuckled her ravisher, stroking the very wet folds of her cunt as he steadily sank in deeper and deeper. He added a third finger. “You’ll be a pirate’s woman. Mine to plunder at will.” Just when Amy feared that she couldn’t hang on to what little resistance she had left, he pinched and squeezed her clit with his free hand, rubbing it with no regard for its sensitive nature.

“I won’t stop, my dear,” growled Michael, “until you surrender.”

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