tagBDSMClaiming His Bounty Ch. 03

Claiming His Bounty Ch. 03


Felix placed letter after letter, neatly on top of each other, in the box given to him. Two years of letters, one for each week, filled his container. Each one held her scent, her lovely handwriting, her seductive words, her crimson kiss next to her signature.

"Love, Yours Only, Your slave."

He folded up the last letter with a smile and set it on top of the others. He read them over and over, especially the ones which she explained how she pleasured herself while only thinking of him. All written words; no pictures of her pretty face.

But his time was finally up. He was hours away until he could see her again for the first time since the police put cuffs on them and broke them apart.

"Whatcha gonna do to her first?"

His cellmate was already far away in his fantasies. He swiped a few of the letters for his own personal use. He claimed he knew everything about Carry only from reading her words.

"Don't know yet, Bruce."

"Well," he said, salivating already, "you could start by punishing her for letter seventy-two."

Felix remembered letter seventy-two well. It was the only time she disobeyed him. She played with herself without permission. A wicked smile came to his face. He was still forming the plan in his mind on how to punish her. His one box was packed, and he was ready to spring from the bars that held him for two years. As the guard opened the door, he nodded to his cellmate. "Later."

"See ya on the outside."

"Yeah, in fifty years. Sure."

"Give her a good one for me!" he called out as Felix walked away.

"Like I want to think of you, you fucking disgusting slob," he muttered.

It took half an hour for him to see the sun without prison garb on. He smiled at the sky and inhaled deeply. It was all over for him. It was time for a new life. With her.

He waited for the bus, still thinking of her. He would have given anything to see and touch her that moment. But the bus trip was four hours to get to his new apartment, and he would arrive at night. Then the next day would be the day he had been waiting for. She wasn't free yet. She still had three months to serve. Every second was excruciating not being able to touch her. At least the next day, he'll get to see her face.

He boarded the bus and kept his eyes out the window and his mind on the past. That one last day with her, everything started going right. He was in love. Then everything went wrong in an instant, but at least she was safe. He never saw her after they were arrested. Bail was denied for them both. That was a given. Felix knew that his bounty hunting days were over. The judge made that clear while she snarled at him, lecturing him, telling him that he was a danger to society for helping criminals get away. There was no mercy in her hateful wrinkled face, only fiery eyes proving her determination to uphold the law. He got two years. She made sure to comment that he was fortunate she couldn't give him more. He hung his head on the way to prison. He had no fight left in him.

All he cared about was Carry's safety. Soon after, he found out that she made a deal and traded information that put her psychotic boyfriend and his friends away for life for a reduced sentence. That's when the letters started.

They wrote back and forth religiously. Their relationship blossomed through written words. He was becoming her Master. She was becoming his submissive. Three weeks in, he started setting rules. She obeyed them as if he were in her cell, towering over her, whip in hand. Even hundreds of miles away, he knew she was being honest about following his laws. He loved how poetic her scribing was. She disclosed every detail of how she rubbed her juices over her clit and begged in whispers, "Master, let me come!"

His penned voice wasn't artistic yet it was perfectly commanding and strong. She could hear his firm words, "Wait until lights out Tuesday night, then come for me and lick your fingers clean."

Then letter seventy-two happened. Her arousal overpowered her. She submitted to the devil that night and not to her Master. He could see the stains that marked the paper from the regretful tears she cried as she wrote her apology. In return, she received a curt note that week, a guarantee that he wouldn't forget to punish her for it.

His mind returned to the present. The blazing tangerine sun starting disappearing, painting the sky in colors too beautiful for an undeserving world. He made the empty promise to watch every sunrise and sunset until his last breath, one of many superficial vows people make once their punishment had ended. By the time he switched to the city bus, the glowing stars and city lights became his distraction from dwelling more into the past. Twenty minutes later on the road and after three blocks of walking, he was at his new home set up for him by his friends. Marv wasn't one of them. He had more hatred for him than sympathy because of his costly recklessness. Felix didn't bother asking for help from him. He knew he couldn't ask for his job back if he wanted to. With a revoked bounty hunting license and a prison record, he was dumped into the unemployed world, practically starting over. As important as the job search would be, it had to wait until he saw Carry first.

He found the key in its hiding spot and opened the door to his new apartment. The sudden freedom overwhelmed him, although he was far too tired to celebrate. He took a hot shower for an hour, made himself a simple peanut butter sandwich, then crashed to his bed and was still too exhausted to jerk off thinking of his beautiful sub. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.


The spell of drowsiness was still heavy on him when he woke up. He chugged down piping hot coffee, shaved, and made himself as presentable as possible. The excitement made his heart race. He was nervous, hyper, and terrified all at once. He found his beat-up yet working car in its assigned space and hit the road.

Reentering a prison brought on the nausea. He cringed and shivered but sucked it up as he sat a table in a room full of boyfriends, husbands, sisters, and children. He lightly drummed his hands on the table, waiting. He stared at a clock for a long minute. Still waiting. The next two minutes felt like a hundred had passed.

The door opened, and one by one, the women came into the room. Felix anxiously searched each one for his angel -- the petite blonde with a sweet smile and innocent face.

Her sapphire eyes lit up and her lips curved into a wide smile. He stood, smiling, as she skipped to him. Her bangs grew out. Her wavy hair hadn't been cut and hung to her waist. Her tiny build remained small. And her still gorgeous tits were greeting him through a hideous, grey uniform. She slipped her arms around his neck and hung onto him tight.

"Wilder!" a guard snapped.

She slowly retreated while longingly gazing at her Master. He held the same pain in his eyes; the need to touch her everywhere was worse than ever. He needed to feel that she was alive. They sat on the edge of their seats, staring into each other's eyes, and occasionally looking down at certain places, thinking about what was underneath. The moment was too much for them for to be able to speak for the first couple minutes.

"How's my babygirl?" He couldn't call her his slave, not yet.

Her cute meekness returned as her cheeks flushed. She tucked her arms in front of her. "Much better now that you're here."

"You've been good since I last wrote?" he asked with raised eyebrows and a scolding tone.

"Of course," she replied with a nervous smile, hinting that she may not have been.

He shook his head; he knew she was truthful. "Good girl. You'll be rewarded when I take you home."

She closed her eyes and imagined what home was going to be like. "Three months..."

"And don't you worry about what happens after you're free. I have an apartment for us. I'm gonna get a job, and I'm gonna take care of you. Your only concern is obeying me and staying beautiful."

"So," she started, leaning closer, "what's my reward?"

He hunched over and got as close as he was allowed to be. "First, I'm going to take care of you."

"Take care of me?" Her breathing became drawn out as her cunt began to throb.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you by cleaning up my little slave so I can use her, giving her a nice, hot bath...washing her hair..." A soft moan came from her parted lips. "And giving her kisses every minute. I'll dry her up in a big, soft towel and carry her to my bed. I'm going to stroke her everywhere and kiss her more, going from her lips to the other lips that will be wet for me." Her bottom lip trembled. "I'll have to clean up that mess, lick it all up, then lick her clit until she's thrashing and begging to come."


"And I'll let her. She may come as many times as she wants when I take her. Then I'm going to put her to bed, right next to me, in my arms, as she sleeps soundly and dreams of safe life with her Master."

When she opened her eyes, they were glossy with tears. She fidgeted as she started to leak. His rock hard cock made him just as uncomfortable and just as disappointed that the next few months were going to be torture.

For the rest of the hour, they talked about their future once her sentence was over. He called her his pet, slut, and babygirl just to see her squirm.

Time was up. She pouted as fresh tears started to surface.

"Three months, love. You can do it," he said. "I'll be here as many times as I can." She nodded; his words didn't ease the pain much. "And tonight, my slave, come for me." A weak smile appeared for a few seconds on her face. With superman restraint, he held back from kissing her. As she walked away, she bit her lip in her practiced coy manner. Her last glance was centered on his hidden and suppressed cock. It stayed agonizingly rigid until he was able barge through his apartment door and lie in bed, jeans falling down in the process. Flashes of the day in the dungeon lingered in his mind for purposes of private moments in his cell. The bright whip marks across her breasts - scarlet imprints on her pale tits with dark, jutting nipples -- her shorn, smooth cunt, her pearly white teeth barred and containing her cries and grunts, her gleaming eyes that proved she was a painslut.

He grabbed his erect member and shifted in his bed to the most comfortable position. The flashbacks streamed in his mind like a chopped up movie, a stream of consciousness, random images of her body and face. He could hear her moans and uneven breathing. He could hear her begging for him to keep going. He could hear her scream for him.

"Master!" He loved hearing her call him that.

"Please, Master! Let me come!" He increased his speed.

"Please punish me, Master! I've been such a bad girl!" He remembered her pink ass and the warmth it gave off when he placed his palm on it.

"Come on me, Master!"

"Shut up you little whore and take it!" he cried out and put his full effort in ending. "Carry..." he moaned. "My little...fucking...slave..." The cum shot up. He let go and fell back to the bed, ignoring the mess on his abdomen and hand.

If she was there, he would have pointed the cum spots and she would have licked them up without hesitation. He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that three months wasn't that far away.


He put in the request for the day off weeks before just to make sure it was set. The day had come, the day to bring his girl home. All morning, he scrubbed to get the accumulated dirt off his body. He was learning his trades well -- tiling, putting up drywall, and other construction jobs that he caught onto quickly. The hard labor helped with his pent up sexual energy and his mood. He felt more like a man when getting his hands filthy and using his God-given muscles for their intended purpose. He appreciated the workout. Bounty hunting didn't appeal to him anymore.

He already had thoughts of the house he planned to build for Carry and whatever family would come later on. The dungeon he constructed in his mind would be his gift to her.

Whistling, he picked up the apartment, making it 'girlfriend' ready. Candles were sporadically placed on every surface available. The scent of vanilla was strong throughout the apartment. New, extra-soft bed sheets were almost perfectly in place. Sex toys were neatly stacked in the closet. Her other presents were strategically placed in view. A huge, fluffy teddy bear held lingerie and gift cards to her favorite stores in its arms. A fresh razor, her favorite shampoo, and other feminine products were placed in the bathroom. It was all set.

His keys swung in circles off his fingers as he strolled to his car. He nodded to his neighbors, even to the obnoxious and loud couple next door. The thin walls worried him. He remembered how loud his little sub got just before she came.

He exhaled impatiently when his car went ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Twenty times he had to slow down back to seventy. He couldn't afford a ticket. He couldn't afford to gain any attention from the police. Seventy miles per hour seemed to be a crawl. Even one hundred forty wouldn't be fast enough. He was there in plenty of time. He waited, leaning on his car, eyes targeted on the prison's door.

It felt that all he had been doing for years was waiting. Waiting was a torture that he wished to dispel of forever. He squinted at the door, willing it to open. "Please hurry," he whispered. It felt that the moment when he could touch her would never come. Time was excruciatingly slow.

The giant door swung open. Carry, with her box of letters, noticed him right away. An angelic smile spread across her lips. She walked as quickly as she could and dropped the box in excitement. They ignored the spilled letters as he swept her up in his arms. Their lips locked onto each other. The beast within him was breaking out of its cage. His palms centered onto her tits, firmly grabbing them enough to make her squeak. She moaned as he lifted her shirt, just by a couple inches, to gain access to the flesh of her breasts. His mouth found its way across her neck and down to the top of her shirt's collar.

"There's a motel two miles away!" a grimacing guard yelled to them. "Get out of here!"

They scrambled throwing the papers back into the box. He took it from her, and like a gentleman, opened the passenger door for her. She slid in while studying his crotch, biting her lips and subtly licking them. Before he pulled out of the parking lot, he gave her another steamy kiss while tucking her hair behind her ear, being as sweet as he could for his freed sweetheart.

On the highway to freedom, they stayed silent. Carry rested her head on her hand as the wind whipped her hair around her through the open window. She inhaled the dusty air as much as she could. After a while, she pulled her head back in to cough as it irritated her lungs.

"I'm hungry," she announced, her first words to him.

"Whatcha want?"

"Burger, fries, and a shake." He loved how she made honest demands when she had the liberty to do so.

"Just for you, pet," he said as he smoothed her wild hair. It was a delay in his plans to take her pussy, but for a half an hour for a good meal, he would do it for her.

There were no more words, but there was a lot of hand holding and light stroking over clothing. He was tempted to pull over and fuck in her in the backseat. But she didn't give him that option. Letter seventy-two had to be taken care of first.

At the closest burger joint, he stopped. And as before, he opened the car door for her and made her blush when he demanded he do so at the restaurant's door. Carry smiled and thanked him, loving the joke that his chivalry was a false façade and that she was the one who served him. She savored the moment, knowing soon that a collar would be around her neck, and her rights would be once again, taken away.

Once their food was on the table, Carry lifted the lid from her shake and dipped a fry. She sucked up the mess and stuffed her mouth with a satisfied moan.

"Is that good?" he asked. She laughed, still chewing. She dipped some more and stuffed the rest into her burger. Milkshake and ketchup got everywhere. "Damn, you know how to eat, little one."

She ran her tongue around her lips. "Is that a problem, Master?"

"Even with you being completely disgusting, you're turning me on." She giggled and tipped the vanilla shake into her mouth. She swallowed and winced as brain freeze settled in. "Am I allowed to make demands on what I want to eat? Or is that your decision, Master?"

He wiped his hands and tossed the napkin on his plate. He straightened and looked her in the eye. "I want you to completely trust me. I want you to give up all control. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. You do whatever I say. Complete obedience. The safe word is vanilla." He broke character and slumped a little. "You trust me, right?" The dominance had vanished making him seem vulnerable and fearful of her rejecting him.

"Of course, Master." She held his hand.

It was what he needed to hear, the words that sealed the deal. He leaned back. "You have a collar waiting for you at home. We'll start slowly; only for hours at a time will you be collared. But I expect you to respect and obey me all the time. I will just be more lenient with you when you don't have it on." He reached over and stroked her face. "You will call me Master when you're my slave. Use 'Sir' when we're in private. And you get to choose what to call me in public. But don't use my name only if you have to."

She rocked back and placed her chin on her folded hands. "Would pumpkin or cutie bear work?"

His eyes narrowed as he shook his finger at her. "You watch it, little lady."

She smirked and stood. "Excuse me," she said as she headed for the restroom, taking sarcastic looks back at him on her way there. He shook his head, hand still pointing at her.

As he lowered his arm, he glanced around the tables. One elderly lady nearby gave him a strange look as she observed and overheard part of the prior conversation. He ran his hand through his hair, keeping his head down, and ate her leftover crunchy fri bits under the women's severe gaze. When Carry came back, he greeted her with a loving smile, overacting with paranoia that someone was going to keep them from each other.

On the way home, he answered all the questions she hadn't asked, impressed that her trust in him was natural. She assumed money and shelter were taken care of. The details didn't concern her either. He told her anyway, but the closer they got, the more his suppressed lust silenced him. Knowing how soon his dick was to infiltrating her tight, dripping pussy made their breathing shallow. Carry squirmed. The friction against her clit prepped her for his entry. Felix couldn't keep the swelling down. Every second that passed since they got off the highway was physically painful. The throbbing of his slave's cunt was too much. He heard whimpers come from the passenger seat every few seconds.

His plan, detailed and precise, on what he was going to do to her was falling apart. Waiting an hour to mount her was sadistic to himself. He needed her warm cunt right away. The one promise he made to her had to be kept first. She had to pay for the violation of letter seventy-two. He originally wanted to take an hour to slowly whip her naked body. A quicker and still painful punishment had to replace his initial fantasy.

Many punishments that he had thought about came to mind. The one that stood out most was her, naked and tied to the bed. Then he remembered the wide belt that he wore for work. Whipping her allover would have to wait. A good spanking with a belt would work just as well.

Her eyes were closed. Her mind was focused on the moment she waited too long for. He parked and shut off the engine. Both threw off their seat belt. Carry fidgeted as her Master ran to the other side of the car and dragged her out. With a grip tight on her wrist, he led her, at a run, up the stairs and to their apartment door. Finally inside, he slammed the door behind him. Her eyes were mostly on him than her new home. Once he dropped the keys, she pounced, ready to kiss him, but he put his hand in front of her face.

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