Not Quite a White Knight Pt. 01

Because of the way her holes had been stretched she was a little too loose. I shifting my height, which changed our angle, that fixed it. Her fuckholes would be much better tomorrow once they returned to normal.

Taking her at her word for what she wanted, I adjusted her hips then I touched a button so the electric motors began to pull on her arms, like the 'rack' of classical torture.

"Oh yes, sweet pain... that is it... FUCK! Such a marvelous device," she said.

I stopped the motor, but she wanted more. "That is what I needed. Ohhh... yes. A bit more please?" I looked at the tension gauge, her body was stretched pretty tight, but if she wanted more - I touched the switch and watched the tension dial move. It took her BP into the upper half of the yellow.

"Ohhh yesssss, such a sweet pain. Fuck me now Batman, you feel so good inside. Could you, well... do me like a slut?"

With a request like that, what choice did I have? I put it to her pussy like a jackhammer, fast and hard. She took it like a dream, a very naughty dream with sound effects and lots of natural "lady be happy" juices foaming and oozing. She practically gushed! In no time I had her moaning on every stroke, every movement was multiplied in every joint of her stretched body. She was getting a high, very finely balanced mix of pleasure and pain together. As requested.

The problem with most tension devices is that usually the bindings hurt more than the joints, because people in a hurry do a lousy job of securing the victim. Using cable ties is the worst. But this device was designed by bondage experts, the bindings were great, the gloves, lower arm bands, stockings and leg bandages all spread the love over a much wider area than just the wrist and ankle. If I pulled her arms from her shoulders and the bindings would show almost no wrist damage.

Still, it lacked something for me, it was okay but there was not enough surge. I could not bring myself to beat her perfect back with a flogger, that was unthinkable. But it struck me that her bottom was something else, it arched in a way that almost begged for abuse. I could get her to use her own muscles to pulse her joints.

I began to use my hand to spank her ass, just to see her reaction. The first blow was heaven for me, my hand felt perfect striking her ass. The blow surprised her, she jumped with the hit even if she had no place to jump. The tension shot past the red line, but her moans and the wonderful tight surge in her pussy said, "do it again." Well, I had two hands. I kept it up with a steady increase in pace and strength as I kept fucking her, she had to know she was not in charge. With no choice she gave herself up to the pain that came with the pleasure, her BP actually dropped as she accepted it. She took it at a level, until she actually began to fuck me back. She tilted her clit to rub my cock in a desperate attempt to keep the pain below the increased pleasure. A perfect reaction from a smart woman.

I shifted her hips a little so I smacked her clit with my balls on each stroke. That paid dividends, she howled as the tension increased but BP dropped. As my hands warmed from the spanks I started to use them to just hold her breasts. She REALLY liked that. I liked it more. I admit I have never felt such breasts, they were large and full and round with a perfect feel - not anything like the sagging udders most big-breasted girls with naturals have. These were bigger than I could wrap my hand around, and had just the right squeeze-feel for each hand; I think I could have gotten off that way.

Given the tension I really didn't want to do breast pain beyond a nipple twist, but they felt so good I may have bruised them as I enjoyed playing with that part of her body. When my warm hands cooled, the noises said I was past the point of doing her much good there. Noted, but fuck, I was not going to change what I enjoyed doing just because of her feelings.

My cock was giving her no choice, moving like a machine I was hitting all the right places inside her. She had a climax, it was on her so suddenly she could not prepare for it. She was so fucking attractive when she got off very energetically, aching with extra self-induced pain from writhing her taunt body as she did so. The pain and pleasure in her cry were wonderful, the perfect balance I was trying to achieve. I had to hold myself still for a second, lest I came to fast. She made the most of it as she screamed while creaming on my deeply held cock.

Fuck, I wanted to do that AGAIN!

As she started to wind down I backed the tension off a smidge then suddenly began moving like a jackhammer again, shifting how I hit her, tripping another climax in her. This time she kept it inside more, so she was cumming more with her pussy than her whole body, thereby keeping the added tension in check. But it was more intense for her, I saw that in the heartbeat. She got off so hard inside she actually pulled me over with her. Just before she came again her pussy clenched me tight like a vise, only inside. Tighter than I had ever known. Wonderful! I thought I would be a wise guy and say something but the sudden increase in the tightness of her pussy, plus catching me at exactly the right spot in my motion, conspired to drag me past that point-of-no-return every guy wants so badly to visit. With no stopping my climax I pressed in deep, held myself against her body, and let go of my seed. She felt the same. She beat me across the line by half a heartbeat.

My own body was putting everything into pumping my sperm as deep as possible in this divine vessel of lust. I said things, in Spanish with my natural voice, that were uncharacteristically rude or exalting, depending on the listener's viewpoint and vocabulary.

Maybe she understood Spanish, maybe the tone and sincerity were enough, I thought I actually heard a hint of a chuckle in among her primal moans.

I also roared like a fucking lion, but that was just plain embarrassing, so I pretended it didn't happen.

As soon as her pussy stopped dancing and squeezing I released the tension all the way. I was not quite done with my spasms yet, I had a bit more to give her, but there was no reason for her to suffer pain without any more divine pleasure as I was going soft. (I do think very well of myself.) I finished my business sperming her, working to get it all from me to her as her body relaxed. She obliged me by keeping her squeezing inside as long as I kept coming, and maybe a bit longer, making it better than good for me.

When it was over and I had unhooked her bindings from the table I apologized for taking so long after her climax to free her. It really is the major downside of good bondage, one inevitably leaves the bound party, who after all is giving themselves to the scene, in the uncomfortable position for far too long. It is rude, unless it is intended.

Gracie wasn't listening, as soon as she could she turned around, grabbed me, and hung on tight, hugging me and crying through an emotional release. Also laughing. Part of it was from what she had just experienced. But part of it was the realization that my releasing her from the tension suggested I really might let her go when I was done with her. She whispered the words, "I might live" under her breath, she thought I might kill her at her orgasm or mine. I knew that she would be having emotional flares as the reality hit her, thinking about what might have happened.

I, in turn, felt the urge to kiss her in response. My blood was flooded with feel-good chemicals and she was the reason. Kissing was impossible with the bag, but I still thought about it. Maybe I thought too much about it.

-

Chapter 5. A Conversation

When we both calmed down she said she had been in fear for her life since they pulled up at the abandoned area; that was when they bagged her. She was half expecting me to shoot her when I got off. Instead I released her. I said guns were too messy (they were) and she got on this crying-laughing jag. She spent about 15 minutes in my arms. I really did not know what to do, this type of emotion confuses me every time. I just held on in what I thought was a caring way. She calmed down eventually.

I did tell her that I was not done enjoying her body. But since sex was on hold for now, I freed her from the gloves and the other bondage gear (the good stuff takes time) then took her to a comfortable love seat where we could sit and talk while keeping contact, holding on. In her current mood she was not holding anything back when she answered my questions.

She had mentioned her mother and current step-father were on vacation for the next week. She had no job or school, and her best friends told her they would be unavailable for the next week, doing a wilderness trek. They were doing one that charged extra for the "unconnected " experience.

"You were really operating without a safety net, weren't you?"

"When you put it that way it really highlights my bad judgement. I had just turned 21, so I thought I could finally stand on my own. Those boys... would they really have done bad things to me?"

"They did not bring dry ice to make ice cream, they planned things... things that a human should not contemplate. They used bad drugs to reduce themselves to a sub-human mindset. But they won't think that way any more. The oldest law of mankind, coming from the time when we first formed tribes, is that the tribes must not mix. I know that is not politically correct, but neither are street gangs on drugs. In this case I must say that your sense of freedom and your values put you in a bad position relative to their values. It is that simple."

"What about your tribe and mine? Are they incompatible?"

"That issue is more complicated, there are limits to the specifics I can discuss. I have tortured and killed when there was cause, and I know a jury would not see the things I did as necessary. But I do not do such things simply because there is an opportunity; wet work is hard, messy work, so it is not recreation for me. As for values, I have come to believe that there is much we could learn from each other. For instance, you are very confident."

"I hope so, it implies that you might allow me to live."

"Or not. That is a subject where discussion will not serve us. I admit that my bringing you here was impulsive, not prudent, I hope it was the lesser of two evils. However I do not regret it... your company is quite charming."

"Did I hear you say you don't regret it... 'yet'?"

"You hear very well... but if we are going to be unsociably blunt maybe a better phrasing is to say I am giving you a chance to show me I made the right choice... and I will admit things look good so far."

"I suppose that I should expect some extended time alone here while you do other things."

"You are correct. I have books available as you saw, various types. There is food. We are very, very safe here. Now I would like to hear about your life."

So she told me about her mother, father and various step-fathers. Like my Mother, her birth Father had gone to the mystery around her first birthday. I found that an interesting coincidence but did not speak of it.

As she went through the list of house guests and step-fathers since then there was one name that tripped a memory, a big one, although I kept my reaction hidden. Still, it was a very good thing I now knew this name was associated with her. As soon as she said it I realized that some years ago I had seen Gracie, her mother and that step-father at the courthouse, and later when a group of us went to dinner. If memory served, her face was even more attractive than her body suggested; my CCTV camera angles did not do her justice.

"Mark Barbicon was my fourth official step-father... the only one I use that term for. He taught me how to drive a car... but that was after the divorce." The way she the word "taught," with a hesitation, caught my notice.

I repeated that back aloud and tacked on a question. "Maybe that was not all he 'taught' you?"

She blushed brightly, so brightly it must have been intimate. "I suppose that was obvious. Okay, you have me, I was very bad with my ex-step-dad. But it was not incest! After the divorce we kept touch. I seduced him, I called it my insurance policy. He really didn't want to, but I was determined to make sure he would teach me to drive. Of course, he would never be unfaithful to Maria..."

"Maria?"

"His current and forever wife. She is so sweet, about 28, from Brazil. Mark is much older, but that is true love. Anyway, so I... I made him... well, both of them really... feel good. They taught me things... I was 'of age' by then, and he did teach me to drive. Mumszy could not be bothered to teach me, and she forbade anybody else teach me to drive, even if I was 18! It was part of her control. But I made sure he ignored her wishes."

I did not know Mark had remarried, he kept things under cover as a PI. Maybe this Maria was part of Mark's leaving the FBI. I asked as if I didn't know much about him. "Mark Barbicon? Wasn't he in the FBI? Some sort of trouble?" It was two years ago, give or take, so shortly after Gracie learned to drive. Despite the press coverage he kept his wife completely out of it.

"You can't believe anything you read in the papers... it was lies, all lies."

"Oh, I know something about newspapers. I am sure that everything they printed was true, according to at least two plausible sources. The implications raised? There truth is a stranger."

"Something like that. I am going to see him Wed... Oh! I should not have said that."

"Well, if I was determined to kill you, then no, you should not have mentioned it, since your absence would involve Mark asking questions. On the other hand, if I intended to let you live, it is quite important for me to know since it puts a time limit to our time together... plus it says something about the when and how of our parting."

"Do you know Mark?"

"I know a bit about him... enough to respect." I did not mention how 'respect' could be dangerous to me and mine. "We may have met briefly while he was at the Bureau. What is he doing these days?" It was a question I knew the answer to, but I wanted a read on her.

"He is... actually he is now a private investigator, a PI with his own agency. Since they never proved anything they could not stop him."

"Well, let us agree that they could not prove anything in court. Again, facts and implications. I will say that, in his official capacity, I had cause to respect him."

"Thank you for that."

Mark was a top FBI field agent who rose high in the local office and was looking at a bright future fighting real criminals who dressed just like politicians - leaving me and mine alone. He never caught 49 at anything, but he was a scourge to some of our enemies. Then something he did crossed a line, it may have been helping a family member. Suddenly all the folks he stepped on during his rise at the office stabbed him in the back, it was a real Julius Caesar scene. The only hard evidence they had was something they could not use, something that was poison so they could not even acknowledge it, but it clearly incriminated him. The judge I worked for was one of the consultants they talked to, although that was ultra hush-hush. I never saw the specifics. Mark knew what they had and, more important, what they lacked. He was smart and sharp, they could not get him to self-incriminate or lie, he stayed right on the thin grey line. In his statement he did manage to throw shade and some real pain on some lowlifes in the office, most back stabbers drew hard investigations. Some paid with their careers and jail terms; they don't play favorites with their own.

Whatever the issue was, Mark had to leave public service. Now he was a PI, with a topflight staff. He had hackers and drones and ex-cops on the payroll. Probably current cops too. His contacts in law enforcement were better than anybody, on either side of the law. He could dig up facts, ask questions, and motivate answers like he never could as a hyper-lawful Fed. For his step-daughter and one-time lover Gracie he would move heaven and earth if she disappeared or died.

If he was going to come after me then my best play was to eliminate him fast and hard and clean. He was a hard man to get close too, my first thought was a shaped charge on a car or a pole like an old torpedo spar. I had access to some explosives that were liberated from the ATF and the LAPD Gang Unit, so I could shift the blame there. Still, taking him on would be a test even if he didn't know I was coming. As it happened, I was very good at tests, but I preferred to cheat ahead of time. I was not fair.

I will say that, even more than the sex (which really was something) this news made me feel better that I had not left Gracie's body in that basement, because then I would not know any of this and I might be the one to get the bad surprise.

Understandably, Gracie was getting hungry (well, the Earth had moved for her) so I prepared a meal and left her to eat it in her room without the bag. After eating she eagerly put the bag on again, which I took as a request for more sex. We went downstairs where she talking some more about her mother's screwed up relationships. For our talk I had her sprawling on a large stiff bed without any covers, only the fitted sheet. I enjoyed looking at her body and considering how I might enjoy it. She enjoyed showing me her body and wordlessly suggesting how I might enjoy it. I also nibbled some of the more attractive bits - and let me tell you, it was all attractive.

Some of it was ticklish, and she had a very nice giggle.

She knew what I was doing and posed herself for me in ways that were sometimes subtle and other times plainly pornographic. Finally, looking at her had me aroused enough that I had to have her. I did not want to wait. I told her so as I cuffed her hands to the headboard and indulged myself with lips and tongue on her spectacular breasts for a time. They were wonderful, really wonderful, and I say that as one who has enjoyed... well, some names you would know.

Finally I gave into temptation. I straddled her chest while holding the nipples. I have never known a better feeling for a tit-fuck. I would enjoy taking my climax this way, but not today. I decided to hold off for a bit.

After I had delighted us both with my lips, tongue and fingers, I released her from the cuffs and we continued our talk.

When I asked her about sex she stressed how she sincerely liked sex, plus she knew that her sexy body, not her sparkling conversation, were the reason she was alive.

Well, when she was right, she was right.

-

Chapter 6. A Quickie

It was getting late and I had work to do. She continued her poses on the bed.

I was ready to try her on again. The poses of her body were very arousing, especially the rear views which she seemed to promote in her posing.

As I was considering this she asked about how she might go about asking for more. She was not talking about the meal or the conversation. Also, she did not blush as she spread her legs wide, then used her fingers to part her inner labials, showing me her pink, wet flesh while making the inquiry. My earlier deposit was still dripping out of her, it seemed like she was reluctant to clean up, although she did occasionally like to taste it by gathering some up on her fingers.

I said that I had some ideas, in fact I was sure about what I would do. But I decided to ask what she wanted, assuming it was going to be a "quickie."

There was no hesitation, she was on her side at the moment but turned to her belly, spread her legs, and said, "I want you in my pussy again, from behind, sloppy like this. Only I want it on the bed where I will sleep. Give me no consideration, just use my body to get off. If I have a choice, I want to feel you in me and smell you in my sheets all night."