Page 13 of H Is for Hardcore

Amy thrashed in her bonds as though she wanted to escape, but Michael hung on for dear life, and her squirming only increased the stimulation of his hard, determined fingers. A merciless orgasm grabbed her in its teeth, forcing a series of moans out of her mouth. The sound seemed to echo off the ceiling.

“Aha,” he muttered, almost to himself. For a disconcerting moment, he sounded like everyday Michael until he slipped back into the role of Pirate Captain.

Since becoming lovers, Amy and Michael had never discussed role-playing. Even though Amy, as editor of the college newspaper, had once interviewed Michael, the theater prof, about a student production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. He had been the director.

Now Amy was fully inhabiting her own role. She used her one free hand to grab him by the hair so that she could glare into his eyes. “Brute,” she reproached him. “Criminal. You have stolen my virtue and now you have to marry me.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

He seized her wrist with swashbuckling speed. “And so I shall, tempting morsel,” he gloated. “You need a husband to master you.” To demonstrate his point, he pulled her free hand up to the bed frame, then awkwardly rummaged in the bedclothes to find another belt to restrain her with. He checked her other wrist and noticed that it was red from the rub of leather.

Michael had no qualms about leaving marks on a willing victim, but unforeseen redness on his captive’s skin suggested a lack of preparedness on his part. He wanted to seem wicked to the core, not sloppy.

As Amy watched curiously, Michael slid out of bed, opened his underwear drawer, pulled out two pairs of jockey shorts, climbed back onto the bed, and carefully wrapped each of them around each of Amy’s wrists under the improvised leather cuffs. He was so intent on solving the problem that he didn’t think about how he looked.

Amy snickered. After all, she thought, as a princess she would have been raised in a castle full of servants who responded to her slightest whim. Watching her slim, naked Michael hopping about to secure her bonds made her feel waited-on.

“Aha,” he muttered again, appraising his work. Those two exhaled breaths held a world of meaning.

“You can’t keep me here,” she told him. It was really a disguised question.

Michael grabbed Amy by the hair so that he could grin in her face. “Wench,” he sneered, “you need a better understanding of your position. You are secured in the hold of my ship, and no one knows where you are. Even if I returned you to your parents, do you think they would want a dishonored daughter?” Amy actually felt tears prickling her eyes. “Don’t cry,” he told her more gently. “I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks. I want a red-blooded woman, not a simpering girl. And you showed me how much you love being ravished.”

“If you value such compliance,” she taunted, “you should let me go and treat me with the respect due to my rank. You should call me ‘Your Highness.’ ”

“Saucy minx,” he sneered, “you need to learn several more lessons. And you know how satisfying that will be. For both of us. Do you know how mutineers are punished on my ship?”

“By being tied up?” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

“Flogged,” he growled, showing her his teeth. “Until they beg for my mercy. ’Tis a fine sight, my lass, and it does them good.”

Michael climbed out of bed once again, searched the top of the bureau for something, and returned with two rubber bands. Before Amy could guess what he planned to do, he was winding one around one of her nipples. The pressure was just enough to focus her attention and keep the nipple in a red, swollen condition. Wrapping up the other nipple went faster.

Amy couldn’t help admiring Michael’s ingenuity, but she made a vague mental note to talk to him later about sex toys.

She also couldn’t help imagining how she would look, tied hand and foot without a stitch of clothing and with rubber bands around her nipples, to an audience of sweaty, unwashed sailors who had not seen a woman in months. Which of them wouldn’t prefer to watch her being beaten and used without mercy? And which would hope to rescue her from their captain?

Michael seemed to read her mind. “None here will save you, my lass. Scream all you like, for you’ll only be letting my crew know that there’s entertainment below decks.” He cupped one of her breasts and jiggled it for his amusement. Then he raised one hand and slapped her on the hip, just hard enough to sting.

The sound was startling, and so were the echoes of the slap in Amy’s flesh. It was one of the sexiest things Michael had ever done to her, and she groaned.

He slapped her again, directly between her spread legs. He did it awkwardly, but the feeling rippled through her cunt and into her belly. He slapped her there a few more times to improve his aim, each time growing more confident. He could see how she was responding, and her squirming, exciting discomfort made him feel as if he could burst. She had never seen his cock so hard.

Amy’s wet, curly bush seemed to be a magnet for Michael’s eyes. “You still have another maidenhead, my dear,” he told her. “Shall I tell you where?”

Amy blushed. She wouldn’t look Michael in the eyes, so he moved up to kiss her possessively, holding her head so that she couldn’t look away. He slid his tongue into her mouth, but she knew he didn’t want to take her cherry that way—at least not yet.

“I haven’t finished searching your fair body for valuables. And I must explore every inch.” He slid down to reach between her legs.

And then Amy got another surprise. Like a magician, Michael produced a butt plug and lube out of nowhere, and he lifted her hips and eased it into her virgin anus. The pressure of the plug in her behind and the bands on her nipples seemed to set up a current that ran through her whole body.

“Michael!”

For a moment, Amy felt as if she might faint. Carla’s fluty voice was coming through the thin wood of the apartment door.

“Damn!” he muttered.

“Michael!” whispered Amy. “Don’t ignore her, or she’ll find a way to get in! You know her. Say something to make her go away.”

“Honey,” he said, sounding like everyday Michael again. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.” He smirked, then, because she couldn’t have gone anywhere if she’d wanted to.

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