“James Holcomb?”
“Er, yes.”
Great opening, I know. A great effort, though, considering the visual distraction.
Standing in my doorway was a prime example of why Asian women are considered among the most beautiful in the world. Slightly shorter than my own five foot ten, slim, with a body only hinted at by her rather severe business jacket and skirt. The only sour note was the federal badge she held in her hand.
“Agent Lee, FBI,” she stated. “May I have a word with you?”
“Of course.” Stepping aside, I ushered her into my house. As I led the way to my office, I wondered what the FBI might want to talk to me about. Closing the office door, I gestured her to a chair, then settled behind my desk.
“What can I do for the FBI today?” I asked.
“I need to ask you some questions regarding a Melissa South.”
“Questions?”
“Yes. Miss South was reported missing from her home a little over a week ago. The FBI was called in because kidnapping was suspected. Your name was listed numerous times on Miss South’s computer.”
“I see.”
“I should inform you, Mr. Holcomb, that you are currently considered a suspect in Miss South’s disappearance. Considering the nature of the subject matter found on Miss South’s computer in conjunction with your name, should you be found to be involved, you could face charges of kidnapping and white slavery. Both of these, I might add, are felony charges carrying considerable prison terms upon conviction.”
“Why do you believe she was kidnapped?”
Agent Lee took up the briefcase she’d placed beside her. Balancing it on her knees, she opened the case and removed a file.
“Approximately nine days ago, Miss South was discovered to be missing from her home. There was no indication she had been planning a trip. No friends or family members were informed of any such plans. Also, certain parts of her house appeared to have been ransacked.” Closing the file, Agent Lee returned it to the briefcase.
“Mr. Holcomb, do you have any information regarding the current location of Miss Melissa South?”
Instead of answering, I pressed a button on my desk. Seconds later, a voice emerged from the speaker of my home intercom.
“Yes Master?”
“Get yourself in here. Now.”
“Yes Master.” With a click, the speaker went silent.
A moment, later, the office door burst open. A naked redhead rushed in, only to jerk to a halt at the sight of Agent Lee, who had turned and was now staring in astonishment.
“Melissa Ann South,” I said in a slow voice, “you have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.”
Melissa South was a tall, full-bodied redhead, a fact nicely displayed by her nudity. Surprised by the unexpected presence in the room, she dropped one hand to cover her crotch, while the other arm tried, and failed, to shield her large breasts.
“Master?” she asked in a small voice.
“Melissa, this is Agent Lee of the FBI. She’s here to talk to me about your disappearance. From what she says, I could be facing kidnapping and white slavery charges. Would you care to explain how the FBI got the idea you’d been kidnapped?”
“May I dress first, Master?”
“You may not. Agent Lee says your house was ransacked, and nobody knew you were leaving.”
“I, um, I didn’t tell anyone, Master.”
“And the ransacking?”
“Well, um, when you said I could come see you, I kind of freaked out trying to decide what to pack. I guess I threw a lot of stuff around.”
Agent Lee compared Melissa to a photo in her file. “Miss Melissa South?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Are you aware that you were reported missing from your home?”
“No, ma’am. And I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”
“So you are here of your own free will?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“And the reason for your visit here?”
“To be Master James’ slave, ma‘am,” Melissa replied.
Agent Lee’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you came to this place, of your own volition, to become this man’s slave?”
“Yes, ma’am. Master said I could come serve him for a month.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Melissa,” I said softly.
“Yes, Master?”
“Robe.”
“Yes, Master.” With a final glance at the stunned woman in the chair, Melissa turned and vanished from the room. Agent Lee stared after her for several seconds, then turned back to face me.
“This is very irregular.”
I smiled. “Actually, this is normal. If you practice the BDSM lifestyle, that is.”
“BDSM,” Agent Lee repeated slowly.
“Yes. Have you heard about it?”
“I have received some information about that lifestyle. So, basically, Miss South is here in a consensual agreement to act as your, er, slave.”
“Exactly.”
“And exactly how is this slavery expressed?”
“How does she serve me?” At her nod, I replied, “In any way I say. And yes, that does include sexual service.”
Agent Lee blushed brightly. She was saved further embarrassment as Melissa returned, now covered by a terry bathrobe. She moved to kneel by my chair, but I motioned her to stand at the end of the desk. This allowed Agent Lee sufficient time to recover her composure.
“Miss South,” she said sternly, “I trust you are aware of the situation you have created by your actions. Local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies have been looking for you for over a week.”
Melissa’s head fell. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“I’m afraid sorry may not be good enough, Miss South. You could face legal action for the mess you’ve created with your vanishing act. This could lead to severe punishment.”
“Oh, this will lead to punishment,” I said. Melissa’s head whipped around.
“Master?”
“You heard me. By not thinking, you’ve created one hell of a mess. Thanks to you, I’ve got the FBI looking to arrest me on some major charges.”
Agent Lee cleared her throat. “Considering the circumstances, Mr. Holcomb, I think we can dismiss any concern regarding the legality of your own part in this.”
“Thank you. Even so, she acted thoughtlessly, and she will be punished.”
“And when will this punishment take place?”
“As soon as possible,” I replied. “If she may be arrested, I want her to receive my punishment first.”
“I see. And would you mind if I witnessed this punishment?”
“Why?”
“Well, to ensure that Miss South is not harmed.” As she spoke, Agent Lee’s head ducked slightly.
“Very well.” Rising, I moved to a door at the back of the room. “If you’ll wait here, Agent Lee, I’ll be back shortly.”
“Certainly.”
“Very good. Melissa, with me.” Meekly, Melissa followed me through the door. When I returned, several moments later, Agent Lee rose from her chair.
“When does this punishment begin?” she asked.
“It already has,” I replied, lifting a remote from my desk.
“I thought you agreed to my being a witness to this punishment.”
“You will be.” Aiming the remote, I activated a large screen television mounted in the end wall. At the sight of the view on the screen, Agent Lee gasped and dropped back into her chair.
Displayed on the screen, in almost life size, Melissa lay nude on a bare floor. Leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles were attached to eye bolts in the floor, holding her spread eagle. A leather belt encircled her waist, while a vibrator dangled between her spread legs. A gag covered her mouth, muffling the sounds emerging from the speakers.
For several moments, Agent Lee simply stared. When she again turned to face me, her eyes were wide.
“This is her punishment?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“It is.”
Agent Lee turned back to the screen. “How, how does it work?” she asked.
“It’s very simple,” I explained. “A cord is attached to the back of her belt. It runs through a hole in the floor. It runs through pulleys that direct it along a channel in the floor, the wall, and then the ceiling, where it emerges to reach down to the vibrator. A small weight just above the vibrator keeps the cord straight.”
“But what is it’s purpose?”
“Punishment.” I smiled. “The vibrator is barely brushing her, well, a very sensitive area. The purpose is to arouse without satisfying. As she grows more aroused, her tendency will be to raise her hips to increase contact. When she does, it pulls on the cord and raises the vibrator the same distance, maintaining the level of contact I desire.”
“Increasing arousal without allowing orgasm.” Agent Lee’s voice was level, but, out of the corner of my eye, I could see her squirm, just a little.
“Exactly.”
“Where did you come up with this?”
“Actually,” I admitted, “I didn’t. I read about the concept on a bondage story site.”
As we continued to watch Melissa on the screen, I watched Agent Lee out of the corner of my eye. I could see her shifting slowly in her seat, as if unable to find a comfortable spot. Now and then, the tip of her tongue could be seen lightly wetting her lips. Obviously, she enjoyed what she was seeing. So I decided to give her a closer look.
“Would you like to see it for yourself?”
Her head snapped around. “Would that be possible?”
For answer, I rose and opened the door in the back wall. At my gesture, she rose and slipped past me. In the next room, moaning softly, lay Melissa. Her eyes widened as we entered, then closed.
Agent Lee walked slowly around the helpless woman, eyes never leaving her bound form. Kneeling beside Melissa, she traced her hands over her bonds, not quite touching them. Then she rose, glanced quickly in my direction, and left the room. After making sure Melissa’s bonds were secure, and that she was in no risk from her situation, I followed.
In my office, I found Agent Lee staring quietly at the screen. After several minutes, she turned to face me.
“Mr. Holcomb, I believe my business here is done.”
“And your findings?”
A little smile appeared on those perfect lips. “I find no evidence of illegal action on your part, and no more than bad judgment on the part of Miss South.”
“Thank you, Agent Lee.”
This time, the smile was genuine. “No, Mr. Holcomb, thank you. This has been a most…….. enlightening…… investigation. No need to see me out.” Her eyes strayed to the screen. “You do, after all, have more important things to occupy your attention.”
As she swept out of the room, I found myself wondering what Agent Lee would look like bound. Little did I know.
Part Two
“Mr. Holcomb?”
“Agent Lee. What a pleasant surprise. And what brings the FBI to my door this time?”
As I stepped back and allowed her to enter, it struck me that something was just a little bit different this time. As before, she was immaculately dressed, hair and makeup perfect. But something seemed off. I finally decided it was her attitude. For some reason, she didn’t seem quite so sure of herself this time.
“Actually, I’m off duty at the moment. So it’s Miss Lee. Or Jasmine, if you prefer.”
“Jasmine,” I smiled. Well, if it’s Jasmine, then it can’t be Mr. Holcomb. Call me Jim.”
She smiled. “Jim, then.”
Returning the smile, I ushered her into my office. Once we’d both settled into chairs, I decided to get things started.
“So, if this isn’t FBI business, what brings you here?”
“I’ve been thinking about the first time I was here.”
“And?”
“And I’d like to ask you some questions, if I may?”
“Ask away.”
The next hour turned into a BDSM Q&A. Obviously, Jasmine had been thinking about her last visit quite a bit, and her questions made that fact obvious. Gradually, her questions centered more and more on bondage. Finally, after a barrage of “what if” type questions, I decided maybe some hands on would help.
“Would you like to try it?” I asked.
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Try it?” I nodded. “You mean, being a slave?”
I smiled. “Actually, I meant bondage.” At this, she relaxed slightly, then stiffened.
“But,” she protested, “if you bind me, doesn’t that make me your slave?”
“Being bound means only that you’ve been bound,” I replied. “Being a slave takes a lot of thought, and an agreement by both sides.”
“So I can be tied, without being a slave?”
“Exactly.”
Jasmine glanced around, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I could be comfortable alone with you that way.”
Again I smiled. “No problem. Melissa can be there.”
“Really? With her support, I think I could give this a try.”
Still smiling, I reached for the intercom.
“Should I be naked?”
The question came from Jasmine, of course. Melissa, as usual, was already naked, and smiled in response.
“It does make you feel more helpless and vulnerable,” she replied. “And Master would never use you without your consent, so you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“If you say so.” Jasmine looked doubtful, but quickly shed her clothing. The body revealed surpassed everything her professional attire had only hinted at. Long, toned legs. Tight, firm ass. Her breasts were small, but perfectly molded. I couldn’t resist the urge to simply admire the view for several long seconds before I began her bondage.
Soon enough, a sturdy leather belt was fastened around Jasmine’s trim waist. Attached to a ring on the back was a pair of leather cuffs. A second belt, thinner, encircled her chest just beneath her arm pits. Melissa was identically belted. As her belt was buckled, Melissa turned and placed her hands behind her, ready to be cuffed, but I had other plans. Gently, I drew the two women together, facing each other. Taking Jasmine’s wrists, I secured them in the cuffs at Melissa’s back. Melissa’s wrists were soon secured behind Jasmine’s back, making the two look like they were hugging each other.
“Ok so far?” I asked. Testing her bonds, Jasmine nodded.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied.
“Honey, you’re already fine,” Melissa stated, reaching with both bound hands to cup Jasmine’s ass, bringing a surprised gasp and smile. I smiled too, then continued.
From a ring on the back of Melissa’s chest strap, I ran a cord up to an eye bolt in the ceiling, then back down to the ring on Jasmine’s chest strap. Drawn snug, this would keep them from falling should they lose their balance.
Next, I knelt and parted their legs. Reaching up, I tested, first Melissa, and then, more slowly, Jasmine. Both women were wet and ready. Smiling, I took up a 45 degree double dildo and fitted one end into each, Jasmine gasping as she felt her end slide within her. A ring was mounted on the outside of the bend. Another cord, running from the ring in the back of one waist belt, through the ring in the dildo, then up to the second belt ring, ensured the dildo wasn’t coming out. A strap drew Jasmine’s left thigh snugly against Melissa’s right thigh, while a second strap secured the other pair of thighs. A final strap drew all four ankles together, Jasmine’s feet between Melissa’s.
Rising, I stepped back to examine my work. Already, both women were rocking their hips as much as their bonds would allow. I considered gagging them, but decided this was enough for Jasmine’s first time. Patting both on the ass, I wished them much enjoyment, then retired to my office.
Activating the television, I deliberately turned the sound off. What the two talked about while bound was their business. I simply watched as they writhed and twisted. Finally, Jasmine exploded into orgasm, the first of several she had before I finally released them. Melissa, a well trained slave, had not cum at all, a condition I intended to correct later. Once released, a very aroused Melissa led a shaky and spent Jasmine to the shower, then both joined me in my office.
Surprisingly, Jasmine had left her clothing in the other room. As the two naked women stood before me, I wondered if any man had ever been faced by such beauty. Gesturing both to chairs, I turned my attention to Jasmine.
“So, what do you think of your first bondage session.”
“It was….. well…… it….. um…. well, hell, it was fantastic! I’ve never cum like that.”
“At least you came,” Melissa said.
“You didn’t cum?” Jasmine asked in a surprised voice.
“A good slave cums only with her Master’s permission,” was the reply. “But don’t feel sorry for me. If Master allows me to cum tonight, I’ll be remembering how it felt to be tied to you, and mine will put yours to shame.”
“Braggart,” I teased. “And yes, I think you’ve earned a good cum tonight. Maybe two.” Melissa beamed.
“Any other thoughts?” I asked, turning my attention back to Jasmine, who was licking her lips nervously.
“Well, yes. Now that I’ve experienced bondage, I’d like to feel more. Do you think, after Melissa goes home, you could teach me?”
“Why wait?”
At Jasmine’s shocked look, Melissa laughed. “Slaves are like family, hon. And I’d love to have you for a sister.”
As the two naked women rose and hugged each other, I simply sat behind my desk, marveling at my good fortune, and wondering if I could handle two slaves such as these. One thing for sure, I was going to get my chance.
Part Three
“Hello, Jim.”
“Jasmine, good to see you. Come on in.”
As usual, we moved into my study. As Jasmine settled in, I took the opportunity to observe this gem that had entered my life. Jasmine Lee, field agent at the local FBI office. Slim, petite, but incredibly well curved beneath her professional outfits, Jasmine had quickly become the woman of my dreams.
As if unaware of my scrutiny, Jasmine glanced around. “The house feels different,” she commented. “Quieter, somehow.”
“That it does,” I agreed. “Probably because Melissa’s gone.”
Melissa South, a fiery redhead, had come to me to spend a month as my slave. Somehow, her stay had stretched to two very eventful months. It was during that time that I first met Jasmine, who’d been investigating Melissa’s ‘disappearance’.
“I’ll miss our bondage sessions,” Jasmine said. During Melissa’s stay, she and Jasmine had been bound together a number of times, part of Jasmine’s ongoing journey of discovery into the world of bondage.
“Jim, I’ve been wondering something,” Jasmine said softly. At the serious tone of her voice, I dismissed good memories and focused on her.
“Wondering what?” I asked.
“Well, Melissa and I did a lot of talking while we were tied together,” Jasmine replied. “She told me a lot of what it feels like to be a slave. To be perfectly honest, she made it sound almost too good to be true. So I would like to hear what you think.”
I smiled. “Of course. What would you like to know?”
Jasmine clasped her hands in front of her. “Most of what I saw here involved bondage, but Melissa told me there’s more to it than that. What exactly is involved, other than bondage?”
I frowned. “You don’t ask the easy ones, do you? Well, Melissa is right. Bondage is actually only part of it. A very interesting and enjoyable part, but definitely not the whole thing. Maybe even not the most important thing. You see, a slave gives herself to her Master completely, heart and mind, body and soul. She places herself completely in his hands.”
“So a good slave is one who just does what her Master commands?” Jasmine asked, looking skeptical.
“Yes and no,” I replied. “A good slave is obedient, yes, but there’s more to it than that. The best slave is always looking for ways to become better. Her thoughts, her feelings, her needs and desires, all come into full play. She becomes an active participant in her own submission, not simply a follower of commands.”
“So it’s like a partnership of sorts,” she commented, “with the slave being the junior partner.”
“Pretty much,” I agreed. “I heard it said once that a good slave must always strive to be worthy to serve, while a good Master must always strive to be worthy of that service..”
“Both give, both gain,” Jasmine mused, then turned her gaze on me. “Thank you, I think I’ve heard what I needed to hear. Now I need to think.”
With that, she rose and left the room.
Shaking my head at the conversation we’d just had, I turned my attention to some paperwork I’d fallen behind on. It was perhaps a half hour before I heard the door open.
“Jim?” At the soft, almost hesitant sound of her voice, I looked up. Jasmine stood barely within the doorway. Gone was her usual air of supreme self confidence, replaced by the look of someone doing her best not to run away.
“I have one more question. Can slaves love?”
Rising, I moved toward her. “Yes,” I replied softly. “Slaves can love.” Softly, I stroked one hand over her cheek. “And they can be loved.”
For a moment, Jasmine simply pressed her cheek against my hand. Then she raised her head to look me in the eyes.
“Do you mean that?” she asked with a shaky voice.
“With all my heart,” was my reply, as I stretched my arms to embrace her. A sigh escaped her lips as she melted against me. Her lips sought mine in a long, slow kiss that expressed more than any words can say. When the kiss finally ended, Jasmine’s eyes were moist, a condition my own eyes shared.
“May I make a request?” At my nod, she smiled. “Make me yours,” she said. It was a request I couldn’t refuse.
Stepping back, I admired the view before me. Naked, tied spread eagle to the bed, Jasmine smiled back, a special smile that I somehow knew no other man would ever see. Returning the smile, I began gently exploring her now helpless body.
In a way, it was all very strange. I’d known this woman almost two months now. I’d seen her naked many times, and bound her almost as many. But never, in that whole time, had I touched her body other than to bind her. Now, with my hands roaming freely over her, I nearly reveled in the knowledge that this angel was about to become mine.
I have no idea how long I played with that beautiful body. Time seemed to vanish as, with fingers, lips and tongue, I stoked the fires of her arousal. The world itself shrank, until all that mattered was this lovely woman who lay before me, writhing, moaning, and gasping soft words of love. Finally, it became too much to take, and I claimed her, finally and fully, as my own. As her body writhed, then bucked beneath me, I could feel bonds form, stronger and more lasting than any rope ever made, forever binding us together.
All too soon, it ended. Free of her bonds, Jasmine lay with her head on my chest, idly tracing patterns on my stomach with one finger.
“I need to be trained,” she said softly.
“That you do, hon,” I agreed.
“Can I be here with you always?”
“Always,” I swore. “We can get you moved in right now if you want.”
Even though I couldn’t see it, I could feel her smile. “Perhaps not quite yet, Master,” she said softly, her hand beginning to slide down my stomach. “I think maybe I need a bit more training first.”
25.11.06