The message popped up on her computer screen. It was from James, her boss. It had been more than a week since he had taken her, found her erotic stories on her work computer and told her, though not in so many words, that she would have to choose, submit to him, or find another job. She had expected that he would have taken advantage of the situation to the hilt, so to speak, but after the evening she had put the lingerie and handcuffs on and walked, gift-wrapped, across the dark office to his and given her ass to him, well, nothing had happened.

Friendly, polite, joking, like with everybody else, no special attention to her at all.

Sitting down to do his bidding and write up the story of their encounter in his office, her ass still stinging from the fucking he had given her, she had wondered what it meant, what he would want. A daily Lewinsky under his desk while he talked on the phone? A peremptory summons to his apartment when he wanted to fuck her? A SMS giving her a time and a room to present herself in the lingerie he had given her?

But no, no sign at all that anything had happened, except he, she thought it was he, had given the story she wrote a five , and commented with a "Your ass is mine" on Lush.

But her inbox was always overflowing, messages from everybody in the company to be dealt with, and she had learned to expect a couple a day, at least, from him. She opened it and was surprised to see an airline e-ticket for Colorado and a note telling her that she would be taking a long weekend for a Public Relations writing seminar.

What the fuck, she thought. James had mentioned an opening in the PR department, but a weekend writing seminar? And there wasn’t any hotel reservation attached. She had other much more pressing things to deal with, so she went on to the next task.

In the afternoon, a messenger arrived with a small box for her. It weighed very little in her hands, and opening it, she found an envelope. The note said, “If you would like to take advantage of this opportunity, you will find the time this afternoon to put these bracelets on. A car will pick you up at your house on Friday at 4:30 pm and take you to the airport. In Colorado a chauffeur will be waiting to take you to your accommodations for the seminar.”

She got up and went to an empty room and fished around in the packing and found two bracelets, heavy silver flat-laid chain. Putting one on a wrist, she pushed a little rod home to join the two ends, and realized that there was a spring catch in the link that locked it in place. No key.

She held her wrist up. The bracelet was heavy, a little too heavy to her eye maybe, but nice. The metal was cool and fitted snugly. She fiddled with the clasp a moment, no, it wasn’t coming off. The other one went on in a second, and she put the note in her pocket and tossed the box.

The car dropped her at a cabin, in the mountains above Aspen. It looked very cool, welcoming, from the outside. Log walls, wooden shutters over lots of glass. There was a little smoke coming from the chimney.

She was tired, she realized as she unlocked the door with the key the driver had given her and went inside, it had been a long day. The place was deluxe, lots of wood and stone, a wood stove with a fire going, a small but beautiful kitchen. On the rough-hewn dining table, there was an envelope, and a bottle of sparkling wine and two flutes.

The envelope was heavy, something metal inside. Opening it, there was a short note, and a silver padlock, the bail open, no key.

Her pussy clenched at the sight. She had half expected it, but...

“In the bedroom there are some things for you. Please put them on, have some wine, enjoy the view, and then in front of the wood stove, you will find an iron ring set in the stone. Lie down on the rug, and lock your wrists to it."

The note carried the slight scent of Eau de Cologne. He wore it often, just the tiniest bit, seemed to prefer it to the newer fancier scents.

She dressed in the lingerie, a white corset and stockings, and opened the shutters on the sliding door that looked out over a deck and the range of mountains. She sat down on the rug in front of the fire. The room was warm and she could see the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. She took another sip of the sparkling wine. She looked at the lock a moment, turning it in her fingers.

It too was heavy. There was no key. What was she thinking?

This guy, her new boss, the corset that pinched her waist down, encircled her body like a band of steel, offered her breasts up and her ass and her pussy, to this guy, her boss, that she had spoken too, even now, for all of 20 minutes. The one who had blackmailed her into cuffing her hands behind her back and bent her over his desk, and taken his pleasure in her virgin ass. Her pucker clenched at the memory of it: her breasts against the cool wood, lubing his cock up, feeling it get harder and harder in her hands, the cuffs tight on her wrists, caressing the rigid shaft. Knowing where he was going to put it.

So now he wanted her to lock herself to the hearth, for him to use as he pleased, when he pleased.

What was she thinking? The answer, she decided, was that she wasn't thinking. Her wrists were thinking of the silver chains, her breasts were thinking of his hands on them, her ass was thinking, her dripping pussy was thinking, her tongue was thinking of wrapping itself around his iron shaft as it passed through her lips.

She poured another glass of wine and drank it down.

Putting on the blindfold, tightening it around her head as ordered, she locked her hands to the wrought iron ring set into the stone below the stove. Laying down, she waited, feeling the slightly coarse texture of the rug under her, the bands of silver around her wrists, the unfamiliar feel of the blindfold. The warmth of the room and the wine and the long trip worked on her, and even though she tried to stay alert, told herself what she was doing was crazy enough, she drifted off to sleep after a while.

She drifted back up through the layers of sleep as she felt someone take her legs and roll her onto her back, spreading them. The touch of a tongue on her clit brought her fully awake. She didn’t normally like that too much, especially kissing afterwards, but she didn’t protest this time, just sighing and giving herself up to it.

“Oh, James I am glad you’re here,” she said softly as his tongue circled her clit, dipping into her from time to time. His hands held her legs down, and she could feel herself slowly building. He was gentle and patient, taking her up and down, until he felt her start to go over the edge, and pushed the tip of a finger into her ass and pressed down on her clit and mound with his whole tongue and she came, bucking her hips, struggling against her bonds, wanting to take his head and press him to her.

Afterwards, she heard him put some more logs in the stove, and then the sounds of him undressing. He still had not spoken. He popped another bottle of wine, and she heard him drink.

“James?” she said, “That was wonderful. This place is great.”

There was no answer and then she heard him walk over to her. She felt, again, the tongue on her clit. Just the tip. Still a little sensitive, she tried to move away. But again the hands held her down, and the tongue darted around her now dripping pussy. He was not so gentle this time, impatient, and when she started to cum again after a minute or two, she felt a brief pressure that set her off, and then he launched himself up her body and mid-orgasm, he burst inside her in one long slow thrust.

It was almost too intense, the second orgasm, her empty clenching pussy suddenly clenching around a hard cock and James, mounting her, grinding against her clit, buried to the hilt in her cunt. Her scream was stifled by his lips, she sucked hungrily on his tongue before she lost concentration as the wave washed over her.

When she came back down she could feel him moving on top of her, slowly, pleasuring himself in her. She imagined what he saw, her breasts moving gently in the cups of the bustier, her lips slightly parted, face flushed, the padded leather blindfold over her eyes, the little silver padlock locking the two bracelets to the iron ring in the stone. She could feel that he was up on his hands, felt him watching her. The picture of them in her head, James riding her, the two orgasms, sent her into another, very soft and light orgasm as he fucked her. As it faded, she felt him speed up, pounding into her, then he slowed down, she heard his breathing get ragged and felt his cock start to pulse inside her. She wrapped her legs around his and held him to her. After a couple more hard bangs, and he slumped down on top of her.

“Oh James,” she whispered, feeling his cock going soft inside her, her and his cum trickling out of her pussy.

He got off her and she heard him walk away, the clink of a glass on the marble counter top, felt his eyes on her again. She imagined the taste of the wine passing his lips, his cock getting hard again. Walking back over to her, she heard him set the glass down on the hearth above her hands. Rolling her over onto her stomach, he lifted her to her knees and when the glass touched her lips, she drank deeply of the bubbly wine.

The glass was replaced by his cock, his hard shaft pushed past her lips back to her throat. She gagged slightly. She had tried to deep throat one boyfriend who liked it, but had never been able to manage it. Tonight though, she had a feeling that she was going to learn. He went slowly, ever increasing pressure, his hands on her head, his cock gradually loosening up her throat. She struggled to stop gagging, but as he came closer to cuming the thrusts became faster and more brutal and then she felt the vein on the underside of his cock start to pulse as the head crammed down her throat and he slid part way out and she heard him growl, felt him cuming in her mouth, spurts of cum on her tongue and throat.

After a moment his cock was replaced by the wine glass, and she drank deeply again. Turned out the semen/demi-brute sparkling was a good pairing. Who knew? Kneeling there, feeling the heat of the fire on her bare arms, the taste of his cum and the wine in her mouth, she wondered what was next.

A minute or two later, she felt his hands on her hips and he pulled her back onto her stomach stretched out on the floor. The tip of something slippery touched her slit. It was big, and she tried to relax, to let it in, but it was huge and wrenched a groan from her lips as he pushed it into her. Some kind of dildo, egg-shaped with round nub that touched her clit and a flanged base she could feel against her thighs.

His hand brushed her thighs and with a click it started to vibrate. Fuck, no, she thought, but he was already tying her legs together above the knees. The thing was trapped inside her, its base held in place by her thighs. He slipped a cushion under her pussy and thighs, propping her ass up a little, and tied a rope around her ankles, stretching her out flat on the floor, rendering her essentially immobile. She was still a little over-sensitive from the other orgasms, and now the bastard wanted her to get off, to force her to get off, again.

“James,” she managed to gasp, “please, it’s too much, turn it off.”

His fingers twined themselves into her hair, and his lips on hers cut her off. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue finding and caressing hers and after a moment she gave in, sucking his tongue into her mouth, accepting the dildo in her pussy, clenching her muscles around the base of it. She was dimly aware of him walking away as her world narrowed down to her pussy and the vibrations that were slowly bringing her on. After a few minutes she felt her orgasm coming, felt her hips bucking against the pillow, trying to fuck the thing inside her, its round nub vibrating against her clit. It washed over her, again, she cried out, cursing, and then the sensation faded, leaving her limp on the floor, barely aware of the sex toy still vibrating inside her.

She couldn’t take any more, it was too much. She begged him to take it out, to let her rest, fuck her, anything, but take it out.

There was no answer. Nothing. She wondered if he had left the room, gotten into his car and left her there. What must it be like for him she wondered, to have a girl, a beautiful girl, stockings, garters and corset, blindfolded and chained, at your mercy, to toy with, to fuck, to watch as she begged you to put your cock in her, watch her writhing on the rug in front of the fire, lipstick smeared, cum leaking out of her mouth and her pussy, her breasts overflowing the cups of the corset that bound her body into an impossible hourglass? Was he standing there, sipping his wine and enjoying the spectacle, watching her tremble and buck as the orgasm hit thinking about walking over to her and putting his cock in her mouth again, or busting her ass?

She fought her bonds, felt the heavy chains biting into the flesh of her wrists, tried to slip her ankles out of ropes that held her stretched out.

The vibrator in her pussy was starting to bring her on again. She fought the feeling building slowly in her, told herself to relax. But it was no good and her hips started to move again, her pussy to clench against the invading shaft, of their own accord. She felt him kneel behind her, his thighs straddling hers. She felt his thighs against her ass and his weight come on her back. He stayed there, for a moment and bit her earlobe. The pain startled her and she was barely aware as the head of his cock slid between her ass cheeks and pushed into her tightest hole. He had lubed himself, apparently and she felt him enter her in one long, burning, thrust.

If she had thought the vibrator was too much, she wasn’t sure what this was. The infernal machine buzzing away in her cunt, the cock pistoning in and out of her ass. She was stretched out immobile on the ground, his heavy rasping breathing in her ear. She came again after a few minutes, and then settled into a sort of roller coaster ride, moving in and out of light orgasms. It really was too much and she started to forget when there was a time when she had not had her mouth full of cum, a giant dildo in her pussy, and a cock in her ass.

She was barely aware when he lifted himself up on his hands and went wild in her ass, pounding out his orgasm into her. She felt him pull out, and then slide the dildo out of her. She was sliding gently down off her high when he sat on her back, and unlocked her hands. She didn’t resist as he pulled them around behind her back and locked them together there. Exhausted, she lay there on the floor, vaguely wondering what was next.

There was the sound of a zipper on some kind of bag, him getting dressed. He walked over to her and rolled her onto her side. His hand dipped down into the cup of her corset, caressing her breast and he kissed her. The lightest lowest whisper in her ear. “Thank you, it was amazing. I put the key for the cuffs on the hearth above the ring. You should have no problem finding it after you manage to untie your feet. Good bye.”

He kissed her again and stood up, took a last sip of the wine and walked out the door. She was furious. All that and he didn’t stay. The fucker. But she was tired, too tired to move, her ass ached and her pussy ached and her throat was dry and raw from the fucking it had gotten. She was exhausted and felt herself drifting off on the rug in front of the fire.

Dawn came early, and the unaccustomed sound of birds, lots of birds, woke her up. She managed to sit up and untie her feet and then walked on her knees over to the hearth where she found the key and unlocked her hands. Taking off the blindfold, she looked around. Nothing to show what had happened except a few damp spots on the carpet. Stiff from the night, sore from the fucking, she put some coffee on and climbed in the shower. It was wonderful and she spent a long time under the spray. It was about 7:30 by the time she got out, feeling much more like a normal woman, and less like a cum-splattered fuck toy.

The seminar started at 10 am, and was about a thirty minute drive. Plenty of time for a big breakfast with lots of coffee.

The remains of the breakfast were on the big oak dinner table in front of the windows. She was watching the day come up over the mountain peaks, gazing through the open sliding doors onto the deck, and idly twirling the heavy silver bracelets around her chafed wrists.

What a crazy fucking night.

She felt good, though, well fucked. But wondered whether she had actually had sex, was it really sex when you can’t move, or see? When your active participation is limited to your tongue? She didn’t know the answer, and to some extent didn’t care. In any case, she had put on the bracelets, the padlock herself, knowing what was going to happen. She was still a little buzzed from all the orgasms, and when she moved, she could feel it in her pussy and her ass. What a night.

Suddenly she saw somebody framed in the open door. James, a weekend suitcase in one hand, what looked like a fishing rod case tucked under his arm. His face lit up when he saw her, there, sitting in her white terry-cloth robe, her hair still damp from the shower.

He walked over to her, set the bags down on the table and kissed her.

“Wow, you are beautiful. Did you have a nice evening?”

She stood up, biting back angry words and walked over to the counter. He followed her and took her by the waist, pulling her back against him, kissing her on the neck. Why the fuck hadn’t he stayed? she thought furiously. He slid his hands into her robe and cupped her breasts, taking her nipples between his fingers. She made a motion to shake him off, but he held her to him for a moment, kissing her neck and caressing her. She started to turn, but he slipped the belt on her robe loose, pulled it down off her and before she knew what was happening, had gathered her wrists in his, slipped the lock over the bracelets, and locked her arms behind her back. He turned her toward him and slipping a hand up behind her head into her hair, pulled her head back and kissed her, long and deep, and she felt her anger softening a little.

He pushed her down onto her knees and as he was taking his cock out, she had to ask him.

“Why didn’t you stay last night?”

He smiled a crooked smile down at her. “What do you mean, stay?”

She was getting pissed again. “You know what I mean, I did what you asked and you fucked me senseless and then left,” she said heatedly.

He laughed, taking her hair in his hand and guiding his cock up to her lips. She tried to turn away, but he held her firmly, and pushed into her. Naked, hands bound behind her back, she took him in, using her lips and her tongue to caress him as he pleasured himself in her.

After a moment, “I didn’t leave last night, I just flew in this morning,” he said slowly, moving in a out of her mouth.

A storm rose in her breast, and she tried to pull away. But his hand held her hair like iron, and he continued to fuck her mouth. She didn’t know what to think, it was his handwriting on the note she had found, what the fuck had happened last night? This was too much, she thought, but she had this cock in her mouth, slowly but steadily working its way into her throat with every thrust, this hand holding her head just so, the cool tiles under her knees, the soft thin mountain breeze playing across her naked body, the silver chains binding her hands behind her.

“I just flew in this morning,” he repeated with a slight lilt in his voice. “Oh, and there is no PR writing seminar at the hotel in town. You are a very fine writer, couldn’t possibly learn anything even if there was. No the writing seminar this weekend is right here, with me.”

Her head was on fire and her cheeks and pussy were burning, and she found she could take his cock in her throat easily now. She felt him speeding up and after a few thrusts, felt the throb in his cock, and then it was gone.

"It's going to be a long weekend," he said, "don't want to shoot my wad too soon."

He pulled her to her feet and stepped behind her. He took her in his arms, his hands cupping her breasts. She could feel his hard cock against her hands as he walked her upstairs and out onto a rear balcony.

She watched as he undressed, watched him looking at her with naked lust.

“Yes,” he said, "the writing seminar is here with me. I am your boss and your master and I am the one you have to please. You will be posting stories on that erotica site. You can even do one on what happened last night, if you like.”

She fired up, “But you left a note for me to shackle myself to the ring under the fireplace and you spent the evening fucking me."

“No, I flew in this morning,” he said laughing, “You might not believe me, you might be angry that you might have allowed somebody else to take you any way he wanted, but you'll never know, will you?”

Face burning, she was still thinking of a response when he took her by her shackled wrists and bent her over a little breakfast table slid his cock between her thighs into her aching pussy.

Was it the same cock? She couldn't tell, feeling him moving inside her. She gazed out over the mountains. Long weekend, she could tell already.