Just Curious Ch. 05

We finish our meal with easy conversation and laughter. Marcus gets the bill takes a picture of me standing in front of the restaurant sign. We continue our adventure by walking to Freemont Street.

Freemont Street is a five block long strip of casinos and bars and shops all under a huge canopy. The cross streets are blocked off, so it's basically one large street party with everyone mingling in the middle of the road. Every once in a while, all the lights go out and a show is projected onto the canopy above us. Shows about AC/DC, KISS, Elvis, etc. are shown and everyone stops and just looks up till they're over. The lights come back on, and life continues until the next show. It's very 'Las Vegas'.

We walk the street, go in and out of all the shops and casinos, gamble a little, and just experience everything Freemont Street has to offer. Some drunken tourists start a conga line, and we join that. Marcus takes pictures of me here and there, mostly touristy type pictures. One shop has cute little frogs made out of walnuts. Casinos have 'Free Spin' tables set up at the entrances, enticing people into their game rooms. Street performers are out juggling, or painting, or playing music. It's one long party.

It's probably 1 or 2 AM. I'm estimating because apparently casinos frown upon time management, but I have seen clocks in the stores occasionally. We're walking along the street by one of the closed off intersections. There's a band playing on the opposite side of the street, we watch and listen to them for a while. Marcus has his arms around me from behind; he seems to favor that position. I kind of like it to. His body pressing against my backside, his arms wrapped protectively around me.

He nibbles on my ear as we sway to the music. His soft deep voice is flowing over me. "You were a very bad girl this morning." The familiar tremble starts to shiver its way through me as I wait to see what he says next. "I told you to try on a dress, and not only did you refuse me, but you insulted me as well, in front of another person." He nibbles on my ear again. "I spent a lot of time deciding on your punishment. I think you'll enjoy it. I know I will. Do you accept punishment for disobeying me this morning?"

I was fairly certain I was going to get punished for refusing to put on that ugly orange thing, but now that it's here, I'm afraid. I really don't know anything about this guy. I twist and look up at him. His eyes are focused on mine, unwavering, excited, determined. This is it. My first real challenge. He's waiting for me. I nod my head; I'm ready.

He walks me backward, off the main street, and onto one of the blocked off side streets. We pass a group of five men, hanging back from the main crowd. We're about thirty feet away from the men, out of direct light, but not in shadows either. Marcus backs up and leans against a white building. He turns me around so I'm facing him and gives me a few kisses.

"I've decided to go old school with your punishment." He kisses me again. "I'm going to give you twenty spankings for your disobedience this morning." He watches my face for my reaction. I thought it'd be something horrible. I survived Dustin; I can handle a few spankings. There's got to be something more he's not telling me.

I feel him start to lift my dress. The soft material slowly rises up my thighs. I try to step away, but Marcus holds me tight around my lower back. I try to push his hands away. "Get your hands off me, girl. You'll only make it worse. Put your hands on my chest and leave them there. Right now." The command voice always makes me wet, and this is no exception. I look up at him and slowly put my hands on either side of his broad chest, feeling his heat and heart beat through my palms.

The dress keeps going higher and higher, past my legs, over the swell of my ass, and finally resting around my waist. I turn my head to the side, and the first thing I see is the group of men we passed. One of them is looking directly at us. Oh crap! I knew this wouldn't be as easy as twenty spankings.

My body jolts as Marcus lands the first one on my left side. I feel the initial sting, then the burn start to form. Marcus isn't spanking me lightly, it feels like full force. When I open my eyes, all I see is the man watching me. He's pointing with his arm, still holding his beer. The other four men turn to see what he's motioning to. Another slap jolts my body, and I can't help but let out a grunt. The men reposition themselves into a semi-circle to get a better view of the show Marcus is putting on for them.

This continues a few more times, my ass and thighs are burning now. I stiffen as one of the men pulls out a cell phone and points it at me. Marcus must have seen it also, because he immediately drops my dress back down. His arm still protectively wrapped around me. It's actually comical the way the other four men turn on the one with the phone out. One man grabs it away from him. One man punches him in the arm. The last two are shouting at him.

The man who grabbed the phone away, who was also the first man to watch us, raises his beer toward us. Marcus takes my dress again and raises it slowly to my waist. His large hand is caressing and squeezing my ass. It feels good after the spankings he gave me. "How many was that, girl?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe eight? Ten?" It's distracting me to feel Marcus's warmth on my front, and cool night air on my burning ass. I keep watching the five men as Marcus keeps kneading my ass. That does feel good.

"Well, I guess we'll have to start over then." I jerk my head up. What? Marcus is watching me, obviously enjoying my predicament. I start to complain, but he gives me one of those looks, and my objection dies before it's even voiced. Even though I try not to, I'm pouting now. He just laughs at me.

Without warning the spankings start again, I'm counting them this time. I get eight in quick succession, before large strong hands massage me again. The men are drinking their beers and talking amongst themselves, never taking their eyes off us. Marcus lifts my chin up and kisses me.

The spanking start again. I watch as another couple joins the men watching me get my punishment. I was getting used to having the men watch, but now there's a woman in the mix. Why does that make it worse? I don't want to look at them anymore, so I just stare at Marcus's chest. I endure another eight slaps on my ass and thighs. I'm on fire, with a sharp tingling feeling underneath, almost like needles poking me. I'm relaxed as the pain flows through me, like it's supposed to be there all the time. There's nothing else but Marcus and me and the pain that seeks out my core.

16 spanks down, only four more to go. He massages my sore ass again. Cupping my bright red globes he pulls me up on my tippy-toes, my body pressed against his. More kisses. "How many was that?"

Yeah, I know this one. "Sixteen. Only four more."

One of his eyebrows arches up. It's kinda cute, but it can't be good. "Who do you belong to this week?"

I know this one also. "You. I'm yours this week."

"Good girl." He kisses me again, then the last of the spankings are doled out. Seventeen is on the left thigh. Eighteen is on my right hip. Nineteen lands dead center, hitting both cheeks. The last one is on my left cheek. I exhale. I was holding my breath for those last four. It's over.

Marcus slaps me again on the right cheek. I wasn't prepared for this one and my body jolts forward and tries to turn around, but he holds me tight and gives me three more spankings.

"What was that for? You said twenty." He's rubbing my ass again. It's very distracting.

"You belong to me, and I wanted to spank you a few more times."

"That's not fair." I try to step away from him, but he's still holding me against his body. My dress is still being held up, exposing my ass.

"Fair? Fair has nothing to do with this, girl. You are mine. I can spank you ten, twenty, thirty times if I want. You are mine." He looks down at me with an intensity I've never experienced before. "Are you bleeding? No. Is anything broken? No. Did you use your safe word? No. Your only job is to please me. My job is to keep you safe and happy. Are you happy, girl? You don't have to answer that because I can easily find out."

His one arm holds me in place, and the other slips down the front of my body and between my legs. No, he can't. I turn to look at the men, and there are a few more people there, about a dozen in all. No. No. No. He can't.

Two of large fingers easily slide into my slick core without resistance. I'm panting now. As I look up into his eyes, silently begging him not to do this. His fingers slowly grind in and out of me. I'm up on my tippy-toes again.

"Your mine. Your pussy knows it. Feel how hot and slick and ready it is for me. If I wanted to, I could fuck you right here in front of all those people. And you'd let me do it, wouldn't you? Your body is on fire right now, because of me. Your cunt is dripping, because of me. You are mine." The hand that was wrapped around my waist moves up to grab a handful of hair. I feel the dress finally drop back down into place just above my knees. He tilts my head to the side and kisses me as his finger start hammering inside me.

I submit to him. There's no other word for it. Submit. He makes me feel alive, and I think I would die if that feeling ever went away. He can take whatever he likes, and I'd offer it to him again and again.

"Good girl." Everything stops. Marcus steps away from the wall and stands behind me. I slowly regain my bearings and move to turn around but he tells me not to. So I stand there facing the white wall, trembling slightly. I cannot begin to describe how horny I am. It's excruciating.

"Lift your dress and press your face against the wall, look toward the people watching us." My breath catches in my throat, but my body does as it's told. With shaking hands I lift my dress up to my waist. I lean forward until I feel the cool concrete pressed against my cheek, and I look at the small group of people watching us. Then I wait.

I hear the clicks and see the flashes of the camera behind me. My body trembles. I feel him moving around to photograph me from the side. My eyes look toward his when he comes into my line of sight. He takes a few more pictures, then lowers the camera. He looks almost proud. I made him proud.

He slips the camera in his pocket, wraps his arm around me, and starts spinning me around. I giggle like a little girl. All the pain and embarrassment are momentarily gone. It's just me getting spun around and Marcus's beaming face. He lowers me down and kisses me again. He waves to the dozen people watching us. Some wave back, some even applaud. I bury my face in his chest as we walk out, past the people, and back onto Freemont Street. It hurts to walk. A reminder of the power he has over me.

He walks slowly for my benefit. He asks questions like: What did I feel? Did I enjoy people watching me? How does my ass feel? Why did I like men watching, but not the women?

I ask if anyone else took pictures besides him. He laughs at this. He tells me the original group of men took care of the others. He says the first guy who was watching us had four other cell phones in his pocket by the time we were done. OK, that is kind of funny.

We walk about two blocks, and Marcus stops at a smoothie place. To this day, I still don't know what he ordered. I know it had kale, pineapple, and blueberry, but what the other stuff was, I have no idea. One was grass-like that was cut live from a planter. There was some brownish green sludge stuff, and a chunk of white stuff. Marcus walks us around the corner and takes a seat so he can drink his what-ever that is. I choose not to sit, obviously, and just stand next to him. He wraps one arm around my leg and strokes the inside of my thigh. He offers me some of the what-ever it is, but I shake my head no. The plastic cup doesn't move an inch and he just stares up at me. Ah crap. I lean down, the feel of the soft material sliding over my ass is still painful, and take a sip. A very small sip. It's not too bad, but I still don't know what's in it. How does a guy that huge survive on so little food? He's had a croissant with chicken salad, a crab salad, and the sludge/smoothie thing.

After the smoothie, Marcus hails a cab and we head back to his condo. Ever try sitting in a cab with touching your ass to the seat? I did, and it wasn't very fun. Every bump bounced you back onto the seat. My legs were shaking from the strain they were under to keep me off the seat. Marcus seemed to enjoy my predicament though.

I am so relieved to be back in the condo. I have no idea what is going to happen next, but it can't be as bad as those spankings. Marcus grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, and offers me one. We just chat while we drink them. Mine didn't last long, I was very thirsty.

Marcus tosses the bottles in the recycle bin, then takes my hand and leads me silently down the hall. He stops at the playroom door and turns to look at me. I keep glancing between him and the ominous door I'm not supposed to even touch. My heart is racing as I think of the room Dustin had me tied up in. Marcus is still watching me, judging my reaction. He's checking to see if I'm OK with this. I look up at him and nod my head yes. I can do this. The thought flashes through my mind for the umpteenth time today; this man is a complete stranger to me. Why am I doing this?

He unlocks the door and leads me inside. There's a large three foot by three foot black steel table off to one side of the room. Everything else is up against the walls. Everything in here is either black or dark. The walls are black and the woodwork is dark gray. The cabinets that line the wall are dark. The tile floor is black marble. The windows are even painted black. There are several lights focused on the center of the room, the rest is hidden in partial darkness. It feels like a dungeon.

Marcus leads me to the very middle of the room and leaves me standing there to go gather items from the various cabinets. I try to watch him, but the lights are in my eyes. He comes back with leather wrist cuffs, black, of course. I take a deep breath as I look up at him, and then without being told I offer my wrists to him. He is smiling down at me as he secures them.

He goes to the wall and lowers a chain from the ceiling. He comes back and I don't resist as he clips the chain to my wrist cuffs. He pulls a remote out of his pocket and with the push of a button the chain starts to recede back into the ceiling somewhere. I stay silent as my arms are pulled above my head, until I'm standing on my toes.

Marcus goes to another cabinet and pulls out another camera. This isn't like the small one he used tonight. This one is a professional quality camera. I try to turn as he walks around me, but it's not very easy and soon I lose sight of him behind me. He's adjusting the lights beaming onto me when I finally get myself turned around.

He walks around me again, and snaps a few pictures, making sure everything is perfect. When he's satisfied he stands in front of me. He says I have only one rule tonight. I am not to make a single sound, except the safe word if I choose to use it, until he takes the cuffs off me. He asks if I understand, and I nod my head yes. He smiles and kisses my forehead. "Good girl."

With the camera hanging around his neck, he goes into a drawer and when he comes back to me I see he's holding a pair of scissors. I try to back up, but I don't have the strength in my toes to hold the position and I swing back toward him. He holds the scissors by the blades and runs the cold metal handles down my cheek, then my neck, and ending between my breasts. My eyes are locked on his. I am afraid, but the back of my mind knows he's holding them by the blades, and the handles can't cut me.

Marcus hasn't spoken since giving me my one rule, and neither have I. He slowly walks around me with his hand dragging across my abdomen toward the small of my back. I try to turn to watch him, but he gives me a small shove and sends me swinging on the chain.

When I stop swinging Marcus is standing in front of me again. He steps back and lifts the camera hanging around his neck. I stay still this time as he walks around me, snapping pictures. When he comes around to the front again I get a small kiss on the forehead. I wasn't supposed to move, and I didn't.

He has the scissors out again. He disappears behind me. It's deathly quiet in this room. Large hands slide up my back until I feel his fingers on my bare skin, then the cold sliver of metal. I hear the 'snip' of the blades, but I'm not sure what he did. I resist the urge to spin around. My eyes close. My breathing increases. Another 'snip' and one spaghetti strap flutters down and dangles from the front of my dress.

Marcus is standing in front of me when I open my eyes. He places his hand gently on my cheek and softly slides it down along my neck and stops when he gets to the neck of my dress. He takes the scissor and quickly snips the front collar of my dress. I still haven't moved or spoken yet. I get a few kisses and caresses before Marcus moves off to one side.

I try to watch him, but my arm blocks most of my view. Suddenly, in one smooth motion, he grabs the front and back of my dress and pulls it straight down with a flourish. The dress rips cleanly in two, with the ripped material pooling around my toes. A shiver runs through me as half my body is exposed, and the other half is barely covered by the torn white fabric.

He checks the placement of the front of my dress, adjusting it so that the material just barely covers one nipple and shows the inside curve of my breast. He does the same to my back, exposing one side of my ass completely, but covering most of the other. He walks around me two more times taking pictures, once having me look at the camera and the other with me staring at the floor.

He lifts my chin with two fingers until I'm looking him in the eyes. The next few minutes are spent with slow kisses and soft caresses covering my helpless body. My mind knows he won't let me cum tonight, but my body is starving for any breadcrumb this man let me have. I press my body into his hands. My mouth is plundered one second and giving chase the next. Large, strong hands are moving over every inch of me. He grabs the remainder of the dress and pulls, the strap digs sharply into my shoulder for a few seconds before inevitably giving way to join the rest of the tattered dress on the floor.

Marcus places his hand on my cheek and my eyes lock on his. He looks happy and maybe even proud. I'm not sure, but he doesn't look angry, so that's a good thing. He looks at me for a few more long moments before sliding his hand between my legs. My eyes don't leave his as his fingers search for my core. He teases my folds until my hips start moving in time with his long slow strokes. Then he plunges two fingers inside me. A groan leaves my lips and my eyes close as I let the sensations flow through me.

"Open." These are the first words he's spoken since he got me chained up and told me to stay quiet. I'm not sure if he meant to open my eyes; or maybe he meant my legs. My eyes open instantly, that was easy, but I can't spread my legs any farther because I'm already on my tippy-toes. A twinge of panic washes over me. What if he meant my legs? What do I do? He looked so proud before, I want him to keep looking at me that way.

I take one of my legs and wrap it around his waist. Most of my weight is on one or two toes, and that doesn't last long. Soon I'm fully supported by the wrist cuffs, my foot hanging uselessly near the floor. Marcus' fingers are still pounding inside me. It's only been a few seconds, but I can feel my stomach start to flutter. Please please please let me cum. It's been so long.