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Tiffany Fordham felt a little nervous and a little silly. A little past one on a Friday morning found her speeding through slick, deserted Boston streets in her red Miata, headed for the docks. That’s where Jack had his office, where he was right now, working very late.
A nineteen-year-old sophomore at Boston College—major as yet undeclared—Tiffany was enamored with the roughly handsome man nearly twice her age whom she had met only a few weeks ago at one of the watering holes near the school.
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Jack seemed to like her. They saw each other as often as they could between her full load of classes and his business, which he described vaguely as an import-export operation.
He was similarly vague about his private life; that air of mystery excited her. Certainly the sex was fantastic. Jack was an experienced lover who didn’t paw her clumsily and finish quickly like the college boys she dated last year. Jack was so sure of himself. Tiffany loved the way he quietly dominated her in bed, though he gallantly respected her wishes when she declined his offer to tie her wrists to the bedposts. Maybe some other time, she told him, and he smiled and said no more about it.
That might have been exciting, Tiffany thought as she entered the maze of dark, cavernous warehouses lining the waterfront. Maybe he’ll ask me again.
Jack’s office sat in the corner of a huge, low-slung building directly across from a small freighter moored at a remote dock. His Jaguar was parked near the solitary lamp that hung over the door. She parked next to the Jag and got out, smoothing down the front of her gray trenchcoat. She tried the doorknob. It was open, though the little anteroom, with its steel desk and battered swivel chairs, was empty. Tiffany tried the door in the far wall.
On the other side was a large room with a concrete floor and a high ceiling with long fluorescent lamps suspended from it. Long benches, some stacked with cabinets, others piled with packing materials and unfamiliar gear, lined the near walls, while a steel roll-up door took up most of the far wall. The center floor held a number of large cases that looked like the ones rock groups used to transport their equipment. Jack was bent over a bench, writing. He spoke without looking up.
“She’s all ready. I’m just filling out the manifest now.” He put down his pen. “Why don’t you—” Startled, he stopped speaking when he saw Tiffany.
Jack was the definition of ruggedly handsome: Tall and trim, wavy brown hair flecked with gray that matched the color of his piercing eyes. He wore gray slacks and black shoes, and a white, long-sleeved dress shirt with the top button undone. He looked a little out of place in this seedy-looking shipping dock.
“What the hell—what are you doing here, Tiffany?”
Unsure of his reaction, Tiffany smiled timidly.
“I mean,” Jack smiled suddenly, “you startled me, that’s all.” He stepped forward. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Not that Jack minded seeing Tiffany. Quite the opposite. This young coed was a stunner: Long auburn hair that framed her exquisite oval face, set off by wide chestnut eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and a pouty mouth.
“I’m sorry, Jackie. I just thought I’d surprise you.”
She threw off her trenchcoat. Tiffany had nothing on underneath but black leather lingerie: demi-bra, g-string, and a garter belt that held up a pair of fishnet stockings. She wore black leather thigh-high boots with four-inch stiletto heels. This dazzling redhead had a body that just wouldn’t stop giving. Her magnificent tits spilled out of that skimpy excuse for a bra, while her flat tummy, firm, round ass and long, lissome legs refused to acknowledge the existence of cellulite. Jack whistled appreciatively, a grin slowly spreading across his face.
“Oh, baby. Come to poppa.”
Simpering, Tiffany sidled into Jack’s open arms. “Like what you see?”
“No.”
Tiffany’s mouth fell open. Jack laughed. “I love what I see.” Then he kissed that erotic mouth.
Jack’s hands roamed Tiffany’s back, down to the flare of her girlish hips; then he kneaded her luscious ass cheeks. Tiffany moaned in response, her lips pressing urgently against Jack’s.
Tiffany broke off quickly. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That noise!”
Jack looked puzzled. “What noise?”
Tiffany swiveled her head from side to side. She frowned. “I don’t hear it now.”
Jack took her back into his arms. Tiffany looked distracted, but her attention returned to Jack when he started squeezing her ass again. They kissed hungrily; Tiffany soon forgot about the noise. Jack slipped a finger between Tiffany’s leather garter belt and her tiny waist.
Tiffany did have a thing for leather. When Jack first saw her at Snoozles, the meet-market near the college, Tiffany turned every head with her black patent leather microminidress, matching go-go boots, and studded choker. Jack had to have her; luckily for him, she was looking for a strong, successful, experienced man. Jack was that, and more. He left with her two hours later. However, they didn’t have sex until two weeks later. She teased him mercilessly while he finally wore her down like she wanted him to. Then the fireworks began. She refused his offer of bondage, but that could have been another tease. Like the leather underwear and bitch boots tonight. Jack pulled away. Tiffany looked startled.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
“Hmmm.” Jack held her at arm’s length and inspected her. “Something’s missing.”
Tiffany sniggered. “Yeah, your big cock between my legs.”
Jack grinned. “That, too. No, something’s missing from your outfit.” His eyes widened theatrically. “Aha! Come here.”
He guided Tiffany to a bench piled high with strange-looking gear. He grabbed a black leather sleeve adorned with laces, straps and buckles.
“Here it is!”
Tiffany’s lips formed a perfect circle. “What is it?”
“It’s a single glove. It goes perfectly with your sexy outfit.”
“What do I—do I wear it?”
“Yes. Let me put it on for you.”
Jack spun her around. As soon as he brought her hands together behind her back, however, Tiffany balked.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“It’s all right, gorgeous,” he cooed, stroking her hair. “This binds your arms together in soft leather. It’s very sexy.”
Tiffany still looked skeptical. Jack took her in his arms for a deep, wet kiss. He murmured softly and nibbled her neck.
“I promise you’ll like it.”
Tiffany frowned, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “I’d better like it!”
“Scout’s honor.”
Tiffany let Jack spin her around again. Slowly, she drew her arms behind her back. Jack fitted the narrow end of the glove over her slim, white hands. He began to lace the glove up her arms, slowly and deliberately, making the laces skin tight without attracting notice from Tiffany.
Tiffany didn’t notice; Tiffany was becoming mesmerized by the soft, strong leather slowly squeezing her arms together. Her breathing became louder, more ragged.
“Oooh! This feels so rad!”
Jack grinned to himself. “You like this, precious?”
Tiffany gasped. “Oh, yeah! I love the feel of leather.” She shut her eyes, lost in tactile splendor. Her voice was dreamy. “I’ve never done bondage before. I didn’t think it could feel this good.”
“Oh, yeah. It feels very good, doesn’t it, Tiffany?” Jack purred. “Don’t you love the feel of the leather as it caresses you and holds you tight, like a lover? Like me?”
Tiffany answered from somewhere far away. “I love it, baby. It’s making me—” She started, suddenly alert. “There it is again! Don’t you hear it?”
Jack paused briefly, listening. “Hmm . . . nope.” He continued lacing up the glove. “What did it sound like again?”
“Like a—” Tiffany furrowed her brow. “—like mmmmph. Mmmmmph. Like that.”
Jack paused and appeared to listen intently. He walked slowly around the work area, stopping to bend his head and listen, before resuming the lacing up of Tiffany’s bondage glove. “Sorry, precious. I just don’t hear it. Are you sure you’re not imagining it?”
“No, I could swear—well . . . maybe,” Tiffany said doubtfully.
“It’s the waterfront. Noises travel across the water at night and sound weird.”
“I guess.”
Tiffany soon lost herself in the wonderfully constrictive sensation of the single glove being laced up her arms. She loved being jostled by the constant tugging of the laces; each tug made the glove tighter. She could feel her elbows being drawn together. Her tits seemed to stick out a mile. Her pussy felt wet and very warm. She wanted Jack to take her like this. Tiffany began to pant softly.
“God, this is incredible!”
“You look incredible.”
Jack knotted the laces. Three straps swung from the top of the glove. He pulled the small one tight over the knot and locked it into place with a small padlock. He gazed at Tiffany. She was staring into space with a silly look on her face. He wound one of the long straps over her right shoulder, across her heaving chest, and under her left shoulder to be fastened with another small padlock. He repeated the process with the other one.
“Try and get out of it.”
Tiffany swung her bound arms madly, teetering on her stiletto heels as she twisted from side to side. She lost her balance and would have toppled over if Jack hadn’t sprung forward to catch her.
“Careful, Houdini!” he chuckled.
“God, I’m really trapped!” Tiffany was breathless. “It’s got me so horny!” She fixed Jack with a smoldering stare.
“Just a couple more things.” Jack fished around on the counter.
“There’s more?” Tiffany chirped.
Jack nodded and showed Tiffany the thick leather slave collar he was about to fasten around her neck.
“Are you selling me into slavery?” Tiffany’s smile was radiant.
“Yep.” Jack snapped the padlock into place. “You’re now the property of the Sheik of Oman. How do you feel?”
“Like a harem girl,” Tiffany chuckled.
Jack smiled back. “You need to be trained first.”
“Will I be punished, too?”
“Severely.”
This intrigued Tiffany. “How?”
Jack plucked something from the bench. “Whipping. Suspension. Lots of sexual teasing. Lots of it. Then you’ll be denied any sex for a month.” He gazed steadily at her.
“God! I’d go crazy.”
“But you’ll learn to crave it. They’ll turn you into a horny slut.”
“How do you know all this?” Her tone was still light.
Jack winked. “I hear things.”
Tiffany tossed her hair and licked her lips. “I’ll bet you do.”
“I have something for you right now.”
When Jack held the ball-gag up to Tiffany’s face, she turned away.
“No, I don’t want that.”
“You need it complete your ensemble.”
“But it’s so big.” Tiffany huffed with a devastating pout.
“So is my cock. And you love to suck on that, don’t you?”
Tiffany flashed a nasty grin. “You know I do.”
Jack held the ball-gag aloft. “This is a lot smaller than my cock. While you’re sucking on it you can pretend you’re sucking me.”
Her brown eyes were warm and trusting. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
Jack popped the bright orange ball into Tiffany’s delectable mouth. Her eyes widened as he buckled it tightly. She tossed her head from side to side; Jack could see her cheeks flex as she sucked on the ball and ran her tongue over it. Her garbled mush sounded like approval.
Jack knelt and pulled her leather g-string over her hips and down those terrific legs. He pushed her thighs apart and pressed his mouth against her pussy. Tiffany groaned, writhing with urgency. Jack backed her up against the bench and spread her legs further apart, delving into her with his tongue. He licked her for a long time, teasing her clit until Tiffany bucked her hips and screamed out her orgasm.
Standing up, Jack spun Tiffany around and threw her over the bench. Tiffany’s tits were mashed against the top of the bench, her face pressed against the wall, her gorgeous ass bent invitingly. Jack spanked her, slowly and firmly at first. Tiffany yelped, her hips gyrating in surprise; then she stuck out her ass to accept the stinging warmth, panting excitedly. Jack increased the intensity until Tiffany’s creamy cheeks blushed with a crimson glow. Tiffany felt like a bad girl being punished, and she liked it.
Jack stopped and unbuckled his trousers, letting them drop to the floor. His cock throbbed, hungry for Tiffany’s glistening pussy. He took her from behind, impaling her in one savage thrust.
Tiffany shrieked and bit down on the ball-gag as Jack fucked her hard. She loved the way he gripped her hips with his strong hands and drilled her with his diamond-hard cock. Her shrieks became frantic as Jack increased his tempo. Jack grunted as he came. He withdrew, gasping and spent. He hauled Tiffany off the bench and held her. She sagged, trembling and panting. Tiffany gazed at him with eyes shining; her face glowed with carnal perspiration. Drool ran down her chin and dripped onto her breasts.
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“God, you’re a tremendous fuck,” Jack wheezed. Tiffany made happy noises behind her gag. Jack pulled up his trousers. He picked up a leash from the bench, clipped it to the front of Tiffany’s collar, and tied the other end to the bench. “Don’t want you wandering off while I finish up this paperwork.”
Tiffany wobbled on her spiked heels, still riding the wave of steamy, erotic bliss. A steady “mmmph, mmmph, mmmph” escaped from her gagged mouth. Tiffany froze. That’s what those noises sounded like. Tiffany tried to recall exactly what she’d heard; then she let out a few experimental “mmmphs.” My God, they’re identical. Somebody else is gagged as well. But that’s impossible. Jack and I are all alone. Aren’t we?
The door flew open. In walked a tall, swarthy man with black hair in a blue Armani suit. Jack looked at him, completely unsurprised to see him.
“I’m almost done with these manifests, Mustapha.”
Mustapha strode over to Tiffany. “Dees is not the girl we ordered,” he barked in an Arabian accent, rolling the r’s. His voice softened as his dark eyes leered at Tiffany. “Dees one is very nice, though.”
Whining at Jack behind her gag, Tiffany shrank from Mustapha but was snubbed by her tether.
Jack straightened and walked to one of the big crates. “No, your merchandise is right here.” He undid several latches on the side of the crate and swung the door open.
Inside was naked blonde woman whose blue eyes were bright with terror. The lower half of her face was covered by a wide leather band. She sat astride a saddle mounted onto a small podium; she rocked back and forth rhythmically. Leather straps bound her arms to her sides and her hands behind her back. More leather straps held her legs to the podium. She “mmmph”ed behind her gag. Tiffany’s stomach dropped to the floor. My God, that’s Natalie what’s-her-name, who sat two rows in front of her in American History. No wonder she wasn’t in class today.
Mustapha grinned, “Yes, that’s her. The moment I saw her at Snoopy’s—”
“Snoozles,” Jack corrected him as he unlatched the crate next to Natalie. It was empty.
“Whatever. When I saw her I knew she would be perfect for the sheik.” He turned his hungry eye to Tiffany. “She would be perfect, too.”
Blindly, Tiffany turned and ran. She uttered a strangled cry and nearly fell when the leash stopped her short. Jack chuckled as he undid the leash and dragged Tiffany to the empty crate. The inside had an identical saddle setup as Natalie’s. Tiffany could see why Natalie was rocking in her saddle—jutting from it were two fat dildos.
“Yeah, she would. I already told her that she won’t be having sex for the first month.”
Jack opened a jar of Vaseline and smeared some onto the dildos. Then he scooped up a dollop and reached between Tiffany’s legs. She shuddered as the cool ointment coated her pussy and anus.
“Did you fuck her already?” Mustapha couldn’t conceal his envy.
Jack replied with a shit-eating grin.
“Better make it two months.”
Tiffany groaned.
This isn’t happening to me! Tiffany’s mind screamed its denial as both men wrestled her into the crate and made her straddle the saddle. They guided her onto the dildos. The first dildo slid easily into her already-wet pussy; Tiffany yelped as the second forced its way past the muscular ring of her asshole, then slid into her rectum. The men strapped her legs to the podium. Tiffany squirmed helplessly.
Jack retrieved Tiffany’s trenchcoat and fished out the car keys. He handed them to Mustapha.
“Load that Miata on board tonight.”
Mustapha nodded. “We’ll dump it overboard once we’ve passed the Continental Shelf.”
Tiffany screamed behind her gag, imploring Jack with her eyes. He winked at her, then slammed the lid shut and latched it securely. Musty darkness engulfed Tiffany.
“The sheik’s got himself a bargain, Mustapha. Two for the price of one.”
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