A Wicked Game You Play (2 page)

Robert's game…her punishment.

Kate swung the branch at her tits, flinching
at the last moment before swiping their sides. Twice more, she
swatted at her breasts, not quite able to bring herself to drive it
in the way someone else could. Her heart pounded as she tried
again. Her body prickled, unable to suppress the excitement as she
finally felt pain. She struck herself again, and again. The blows
stung a little, and they were starting to leave stripes on her
flesh, but she still wasn’t able to use it the way it should be
used.

Again imagining herself in someone else’s
hands, she began to hope somebody would come along, anyone. Despite
the potential danger of being found by a stranger, she was
confident enough to believe she could control the scene enough to
walk away from it with what she wanted. He’d torture her breasts
and her bottom; even her pussy and then he’d fuck her. He’d even
think it was rape, but like any fantasy, that would be as much a
part of her plan as the torture. Her orgasms would be driven by
pain, fear and excitement. They’d be unlike any she’d ever had.
Finally, after using her for hours, he’d leave her lying in the
wilderness, battered, bruised and thoroughly sated with barely
enough strength to get back to her clothes and find her way
home.

The sound of a car approaching as it turned
onto the forest track interrupted her daring dreams. The gears
crunched as the oncoming car negotiated a path on the difficult
terrain. Her heart stopped for a moment.
A car! Here?
The
fantasies she'd entertained seconds before evaporated as reality
intruded. Quickly she looked back near the bare trees where she’d
left her jeans and sweater, but all she saw was a bit of somewhat
flattened grass.

Oh no, please no. Oh God! This can’t be
happening!
Her clothes, everything—gone!

I left my clothes by the fridge, I know I
did. I left everything by the fridge.

She ran back to where the pile should have
been, but there was no sign of her clothes. Desperate, Kate looked
around. Fear made the adrenaline pump her heart faster. Her pulse
raced. Her mouth went dry.

She thought about hiding in the refrigerator,
but was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get out. The driver would be
close enough to see her any second. Instinctively she covered her
breasts and sex with her hands. The confidence she’d felt just
moments earlier vanished. Ideas far less pleasant replaced the
perfect rape fantasy.

“Oh no,” she muttered, still searching for
her clothes. They definitely weren’t there. But nobody could have
taken them - she was alone and unobserved. Clearly though, she
realized with a growing sense of shame, somebody had been watching
and working while she was busy. If it wasn’t Robert, then…

Quit panicking, girl
, she thought to
herself. Maybe it was just an old lady driving out to walk the dog.
She tried to move behind the scant cover of the bare trees, hiding
her nakedness as best she could while holding the stick ready, just
in case. The car stopped only a few hundred yards from where she
trembled, nude, behind the scrubby trees.

Kate prepared to break and sprint, make for
the deeper cover of the woods. She’d wait there until the driver
left. Then she’d search for her clothes. Once more, she tried to
make out the car’s driver. Failing to do that, she did recognize
the car. It was Robert’s.

Kate almost laughed out loud with relief.
Jumping up, she ran toward the car.

“Robert!”

The driver-side door opened. A tall figure
got out and stood there, waiting for her. Kate stopped in
mid-stride. The man wore a knee length winter’s coat and a scarf
around his neck. She squinted at the waiting figure. Doubt came
nagging to the surface in her mind.

“Robert?”

“Kate?” replied a familiar voice. “What’s
going on?”

Her hands flew back to her breasts and
crotch.

“Mr. Johnson!”

Kate froze as Robert’s father stared
questioningly at her.
Mr. Johnson!
This was all too
dreadful. Robert’s precious game had turned into a nightmare.

“Kate?” He asked, consternation written on
his face. “Are you okay? What’s going on? Has anything happened to
you?”

She didn’t know him that well. Robert’s
parents had divorced when he was young, and Robert had lived with
his mother. Whenever Kate asked about his dad, Robert just said he
was always away on business. She never even tried to ask Beth, a
reserved woman who kept to herself and typically said little to
Kate whenever she went to their house. Kate felt that Mrs. Johnson
disapproved of her.

Mr. Johnson, Anthony, she remembered, folded
his arms and stared at her. She noticed his gaze hovering in the
expected places, not that she really blamed him. She reddened with
embarrassment.

“I…uh, hello Mr. Johnson, I thought you were
Robert,” Kate said, weakly. She wished the ground beneath her bare,
cold feet would open and swallow her up.

“So it would seem.” For a man in his
mid-forties, he’d kept himself in good shape; lean, his dark hair
beginning to grey at the temples. He carried himself with a quiet,
self–assured air, as though he regarded the world with a certain
wary, but intelligent detachment and a steely calm.

Looking into his hooded, grey eyes, Kate
swallowed. “Mr. Johnson, it’s not what it seems.” Not knowing what
else to say, she added, “Somebody stole all my clothes.”

Looking bemused, Mr. Johnson raised an
eyebrow and said to the shivering girl, “They stole your clothes?
Did your clothes come off voluntarily or were you in some sort of
trouble?”

Kate hesitated. He seemed to be taking the
circumstances very casually, and there was an implication in his
question she wasn’t at all sure she liked. “Please, have you got
anything I can wear until I get home? It’s awful cold.”

“Of course, I’ll get you something. You must
be frozen. Excuse my bad manners, but you took me by surprise,” he
said with a smile. He put his arm around her quaking shoulders.

Grateful for his warmth, Kate wondered when
he would take off his coat and wrap it around her. Instead, he
opened the trunk of the car.

“In you get,” he said.

Kate stared at the opened trunk. It was all
but empty, meticulously clean save for a set of jumper cables, a
toolbox and a coil of thin rope. She felt her heart start to race.
Oh my God…
There? In the trunk?

She looked at him for an explanation, but he
offered none.

More sternly, he said, “Get in the trunk,
Kate while I find something appropriate for you to wear.”

Despite growing concerns, she stammered a
quiet, “Yes, Mr. Johnson,” and climbed in to crouch in the rear of
the car while he disappeared up front. She could hear him opening
the glove compartment. She looked at the rope and shivered. A few
moments later, he reappeared.

“Put this on,” he said.

Still embarrassed by her predicament, Kate
looked closer at the object he was holding out to her.
A dog
collar?
She supposed she should have been happy it wasn’t a
roll of duct tape or a knife, but the fact did little to calm
her.

“Here, it goes on like this,” he said. He
opened the red leather collar, clipped it around her neck then
fastened it closed.

“Mr. Johnson?” Kate asked, still unsure
whether this was his idea of a sick joke.

“Quiet girl,” he said, sharply. He had a long
chain in his other hand which he fastened to the collar.

“I don’t understand,” Kate began tentatively.
What was going on?

“This is a dog collar,” he explained, almost
kindly. “I’ve decided that, because of what you’ve done, you’ll
wear one. All bitches should wear a collar rather than run loose in
the woods, don’t you think?”

Kate felt her mouth drop open, but she was
too shocked and embarrassed by what he’d said to speak.

“Now be quiet. I don’t want to hear another
word out of you until I say you can speak.”

He walked away from the car, leaving her
there. Alone. Naked and collared. Too afraid to move, Kate crouched
uncomfortably in the trunk, trying to shield herself from the cold
air. She wondered what Robert’s dad was going on about. She’d done
nothing wrong! She and Robert had just been playing. They were
adults. Adults played that way.

Part of her felt scared, but she felt
strangely attracted to the man too. She’d seen how he’d looked at
her. He hadn’t even attempted to disguise his lust when his
penetrating gaze had scoured her body. For a second, the fantasies
came back. She shook them away. She hardly knew this man. For all
she knew, he’d act them out and worse, and then leave her for
dead.

But he did, after all, favor his son.
Watching him, Kate wondered how she’d react if he decided to take
her. Any thoughts she’d entertained about controlling the situation
vanished. She could tell he wasn’t a man to be controlled. So the
question was, would she fight or surrender?

Mr. Johnson, his hands deep in his pockets,
came back to Kate. He took her by surprise, pulling on her chain so
she had to use her hands to stop from falling as she scrambled out
of the car. She gave a cry of surprise before finding herself
wrapped in his strong, urgent embrace. He pressed his lips to hers,
kissed her violently, forcing his tongue into her mouth, probing
and tasting. Kate surrendered. Her body went limp in his arms. Her
arms encircled his neck, prolonging the kiss.

“Kate,” he said, “If you want to behave like
a bitch in heat then I’ll treat you like one.”

Surprise and hurt showed in her eyes.
A
bitch? She wasn’t a bitch. What did he mean?

“Down,” he said, pulling the chain harder.
Giving a small cry of surprise, Kate obeyed. She sank to her knees,
her face suddenly level with his crotch. She felt her nipples
harden again as the cold cut through the confusion. She clutched
her breasts and looked up at him.

“That’s better. You’ve been bad, Kate, very
bad.”

What did he mean, bad? It was just
harmless fun.
“Mr. Johnson…”

“Don’t interrupt me, girl,” he said, his
voice soft but firm. “I know what you’ve been up to. Smoking dope
is one thing. I don’t have a problem with that, but dealing? Do you
have any idea how stupid and dangerous that is?”

Kate reddened. My God, he knew about the
dealing? Her stomach started to knot up.

“We didn’t mean any harm; it was just to a
few friends.”

At that, he shook his head, dismissing her
story almost wearily.

“And you have friends in the police, is that
what you’re saying? Robert got caught yesterday selling your dope
to an undercover police officer.”

She drew in a sharp breath.
No!

Mr. Johnson looked down at her. “So, go ahead
and try and tell me you’re innocent and know nothing about it.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Johnson, I didn’t know Robert
was selling on the street, I swear.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. You’ve caused a lot
of trouble. I’d turn you in myself, but I can think of other ways
to teach you a lesson.”

He picked up a stick. The same stick Kate had
used to pleasure herself earlier.

“Fetch the stick,” he said, and threw it high
into the air.

She stared, unbelieving, as it landed several
yards away.

“Go fetch,” he repeated.

Kate tried to stand, but he tugged at her
leash. “On your hands and knees. I didn’t say you could walk. You
haven’t earned that privilege with me yet. And when you get the
stick, bring it back in your mouth.”

Kate wiped her nose. She shivered, her body
trembling.

“Go fetch,” Mr. Johnson repeated.

Kate did as she was told. Her breasts beat
from side to side, bouncing like full udders as she scrabbled over
the flinty ground on her hands and knees. Besides the humiliation,
she knew that was exactly what he wanted. When she found the stick,
she gripped it between her teeth, and loped back to where Mr.
Johnson waited, his hands folded solemnly in front of him.

She’d never felt so humiliated.

“Give it to me,” he said.

She pressed her head against his thigh, and
he took the stick from her mouth.

“Up on your feet.”

Shakily, Kate stood, grateful that he’d
returned at least some of her dignity back to her.

“You’re a good looking girl, Kate,” said Mr.
Johnson. “I’m beginning to appreciate what my son sees in you.”

She shivered, aware of that penetrating gaze.
Once again, he kissed her harshly, owning her. She murmured as his
tongue opened her lips and thrust inside. Her arms raised and
folded around his neck.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered into her
ear.

“Please, Mr. Johnson, I’m really sorry for
any trouble I got Robert into. I didn’t mean to.”

“Really? Then show me how sorry you are.”

She took his hands and guided them to her
breasts. His first touch, light and teasing as it followed her soft
contours, sent a thrill of pleasure through her. She threw back her
head. Her lips opened in a timid moan of surrender. Her hands
guided his, pressing his fingers, asking that he squeeze them
harder.

“You like that?” he whispered. He firmly
cupped her breast as she grabbed his hair to pull his head down to
the throbbing nipple.

Resisting, he kissed her open mouth. Her lips
softened under his kiss. Her pink tongue darted out to meet his.
But her moans of pleasure turned into a cry of alarm as he suddenly
caught her stiff nipples and pulled sharply.

“Ow!” Her cry was driven more by surprise
than pain.

Fingers closed tighter on one nipple in a
vice-like grip that would have easily ended it had he been using
the pliers. His other hand, arrogant and conquering, sought out her
trembling belly, the cusp of her girlish slit. She shivered in
ecstasy. His touch—like an electric current as it strayed over the
naked mound of her sex—was only compounded by the shooting pain in
her breast.