Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

ASHLEY

T he cold wooden panelling pressed into my back. Moving was an option, but I sat frozen, clinging onto the blanket and watching the man.

He pottered about, cutting leather with extremely sharp-looking tools, trimming and sewing and polishing. Looking every bit harmless.

He was nothing of the sort. A harmless man doesn't drug you and drag you from your man to lock you in a fucking cage.

Red leather circled my body. My otherwise naked body. The creep had stripped me naked while I slept and wrapped me in his craft. Despite my resignation about the situation, I couldn't ignore the fact that the delicate straps cross-crossing my body made my insides squirm. It was salacious. Like I was a pretty ornament. There to be looked at. Lusted over.

Fucked .

This is crazy , I thought. You can't spend a week with a man who tracked you down and stole you. No matter how badly you need to be touched.

But… If I had no choice…

Slowly, I lowered the blanket to the floor, catching his eyes flicking in my direction. They grazed over my nipples, to my stomach, my lower half, and finally to my face. Being under his inspection had me soaked. I didn't even need his touch to be scorching.

It could all be a lie. The man could keep me forever. Or slice me up and use my skin for one of his pretty collars. That sent a shiver through me. I eyed the leather crossing my stomach sceptically before dismissing the thought.

That way held nothing but distress and panic.

Would Jerry be worrying about me? I hoped so. Perhaps a week away from him would cause him to realise that our marriage was on its last legs. Would it jolt him into action? I imagined arriving home and Jerry sweeping me into his arms, kissing me and holding me. Protestations of how he'd been an idiot and that everything would be different. Finally growing a spine and telling his god-damned mother to stop inserting herself between us.

It was a fantasy.

But there was a chance it would all turn out okay. That it might be better .

‘What's your name?' I asked.

‘Bobby.' With the deep gravel of his voice, even his name sounded hot. Rough.

With nothing to do but sit, I surveyed my surroundings. It must have been some sort of outbuilding. Old wooden walls, and a large workbench dominated most of the floor space. Hundreds of metal drawers covered a wall, all neatly labelled with things like RIVETS and DYE. A tatty old couch sat against the far wall, next to a formica kitchenette with a coffeepot and a mini-fridge.

There was no bed, and no bathroom as far as I could see. It wasn't his home; I didn't think. Maybe he had a wife and kids next door. The idea put a sour taste in my mouth.

‘Tell me about yourself,' I said. ‘Do you live here?'

‘Naw. This is my workshop. I spend most of my time here. It adjoins my cabin.'

‘And does anyone else live here?' I asked.

‘Why? You hoping to get dick from a buddy, too? We'll have to see how well you behave.' A smirk crossed his gently lined face. Fighting the urge to proclaim that wasn't what I meant, I shook my head. ‘No need to get all shy. I'm not against seeing my pet enjoying herself. I get a better view that way, too.'

‘I'm not your pet.' The term twisted in my chest. I couldn't decide if I hated it or wanted him to pin me to the rough floor and whisper it in my ear.

‘We'll see.'

Then the fucker walked over to the door and left.

‘Hey,' I yelled, kneeling and grabbing the metal bars. ‘Don't leave me here!'

The door closed with a deafening clunk, and I stood up, pulling at the bars with all my might. They didn't budge an inch. He'd secured them into the ceiling, and at the bottom he'd welded them to the square metal base. Damn it.

Fetching the blanket, I wrapped myself up, sliding onto the padded dog bed. Fear wrapped me as tightly as the piece of fabric. My needs had clouded everything. How desperate could I be to get laid that I'd put myself out online?

What the fuck had I got myself into?

B y the time he'd come back, I was a mess of emotions. I'd tried to remove the outfit, only to find he'd literally locked me into it. I'd cussed and screamed and touched myself when frustration had me overwhelmed. Nothing had come of it. Worry kept me from reaching the finishing line.

Bobby approached the cage, looking at me with a glint in his dark blue eyes.

‘Dinner time.'

A scraping sound filled the air as he pulled a stool to the edge of the cage and sat. He held a dog bowl in one hand, and the smell of the food it contained made my mouth water.

‘Come now, on your knees next to me. Pets should be eager to serve, on their knees and ready to play. I'll let you off this time, but next time be ready.'

Hesitation warred with my urge to please. In the end, my stomach rumbling made up my mind for me.

I moved closer to him, my knees digging into the hard, cold metal beneath them. Sitting back on my calves, I held out my hand, expecting him to pass the bowl through the bars.

‘Hands behind your back. You'll eat from my fingers or using your mouth only from the bowl. Like a dog.'

Sweat pricked at the back of my neck as I looked from his face to the bowl. It was bad enough he'd brought my food in a fucking metal bowl. The growl of my stomach had me relaxing my shoulders and gripping my hands behind my back despite my reluctance.

‘There's a good girl. No biting.' His chuckle did ungodly things to me, his amusement making me giddy.

Barbecue chicken and sticky yellow rice clung to the fingers he held out to me. The sweet but savoury scent filled my nostrils, and I opened my mouth. Pleasure filled his face as I sucked the food from his fingers, moaning softly at the taste.

‘Such a good girl,' he said, his voice tender. The way he looked at me, so proud, sent a thrill through me. To be on my knees and eating from his hand was the most degrading thing I'd ever done, yet it left me feeling utterly electrified.

Grabbing some more, he fed me, groaning when I wrapped my tongue around his fingers, sucking them into my mouth. A twinge of guilt hit me, but I pushed it way down inside. There was something especially dirty about knowing my husband would be at home worrying while I knelt at another man's feet.

By the end of the bowl, I was practically panting with need, any decorum gone with the way I lapped the juices from his skin.

There was no denying the fucking tent between his thighs, either. Reaching out and touching a real, hard dick was almost an obsession. It had been so long since I'd been able to indulge myself in someone else.

Right as I reached toward him, he stood up. I let out a little growl of annoyance, which only broke his face into a grin.

‘Patience,' he tutted.

Grabbing a bottle from the mini-fridge, he filled the bowl with water. His footsteps made the floor creak until he stood in front of the cage. With a slosh of water cascading over the floor, he unzipped his pants.

My mouth almost hit the floor as he unleashed his cock. Dark veins stood out along the length, like a map leading me to perfection. The tip was engorged, thick and full.

And it was for me.

He'd got that hard by me just licking his fingers. I hadn't had to parade or beg.

I waited for him to come closer, to press his magnificent dick through the bars and let me feast upon it.

Instead, he gripped his dick in between fingers that were still stained with my saliva, and started stroking. Wide-eyed, I watched him, getting wetter by the second.

‘Look at you, Pet. Those big eyes begging to be fucked. Turn around for me, press your pretty cunt to the bars. Let me see you.'

On quaking legs, I did as he asked. The cold bars dug into the round flesh of my ass. His moan made me weak. No matter how wrong it was, I was ready for him. To feel him. To feel wanted.

‘Such a pretty, wet thing. Aren't you?' He practically growled, his hand moving erratically over the head of his cock.

‘Yes.' I wriggled back, the bars almost painful against my thighs.

‘You need to be fucked. Used like a proper slut. That husband of yours doesn't know what he has, does he? I will not make the same mistake.' He slammed a hand against the bars, making me jump.

With a grunt, he gave into his own desires. I peeked at him, seeing his face morph with pleasure.

No .

‘Please?' I begged.

It was too late. Bobby leaned over and came into the dish. Hot ropes of cum landed in the water, clinging to the metal edge of the bowl and floating across the top. I let out a whimper of disappointment.

‘Sorry, Pet. But you got me all worked up, and when I fuck you, I want to be all in. Show me how badly you want my cum, and I'll make sure you are the first thing I do come morning.'

Turning, I knelt beside the bars. Using his boot, he slid the bowl in the gap at one corner of the cage, barely big enough for the bowl to fit through.

My stomach turned at the cum floating on the surface, congealing in the cold water. A gag caught in my throat at the thought of lapping it up.

‘Drink up, pup.'

The fact that I was actually thirsty helped spur me on to touch my lips to the water. Drinking the first few mouthfuls was fine. Until a thick gloop hit my tongue. I couldn't fight the retch that stole over me.

‘Still fighting to drink it all, even knowing how fucking disgusting it is. ‘Atta girl. You must really want a good dicking.'

The crass words only made me want to keep going. I enjoyed a bit of dirty talk, but the more demeaning the words, the more effect they seemed to have on me. Crushing my eyes closed, I drank fast, working to ignore the slimy sections of the water.

‘God, you are so perfect.'