|Your cart is currently empty|
Popular rope model Saree McKeon's public persona means some men see her as an object. They don't know the real woman, and she intends to keep it that way.
Then she's kidnapped by mysterious and sexy Reeve Robinson. He's determined to infiltrate a criminal organization but needs a compliant woman to accompany him. Whatever it takes, he'll discipline and train her for her role. He has no choice, because women's lives are at stake.
Publisher’s Note: This dark story of love and heroism contains strong themes of domination, as well as explicitly described encounters.
*** Currently available exclusively at Amazon ***
You have one fuckin bod. What I wouldn’t give to rub mine all over yours. Bothered.
Hot, hot, hot! Damn but you rock. Where the hell do you live? I’ll fuck you senseless. Charles.
I dig yur ass & boobs. Thats wut turns me on. Stu.
Forget her ass & boobs, Stu boy. Look at those eyes. She’s totally into what she does. How about it, Sass? Nutting turns you on like being tied up and disciplined, right? Lawman.
Tyin her is the fuckin first act, Lawman. Watch those eyes wen she climaxes. She dont ever want it to end. Stu.
Hey Sass, I caught your latest at The Dungeon. Not enough women know their place is at their master’s feet, but you do. Watching you squirm and hearing you scream while that dom held a vibrator to your pussy made me cum. If it was me, I’d never take off the ropes. I’d keep after you until you passed out. Has that ever happened during a shoot or in your real life? Hog.
Stifling a shudder, Saree McKeon sipped on iced tea while contemplating letting the men who’d logged into her Sass In Satin chat room know she was at her computer. She’d designed her web site to include weekly live chats because personally connecting with members of The Dungeon where she worked was something she could do to thank them for making her one of the site’s most popular bondage models. However, after two months of come-ons, occasional filth, and the erroneous belief that she embraced the submissive lifestyle, she wished she hadn’t.
Lawman and Stu who’d been there almost from the beginning spent most of their time arguing with each other. Stu’s fractured spelling sometimes defied comprehension, and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She didn’t remember hearing from Bothered, Charles, or Hog before. Maybe she should acknowledge their comments, especially Hog’s, but doing so always left her feeling dirty and uneasy. A few times before she’d caught on, she’d engaged in text conversations with seemingly normal men only to discover they were perverts. Thank goodness for the anonymity of the Internet and her alter ego. Because she’d called herself Sass from the moment she’d signed with The Dungeon, hopefully none of the men in her so-called fan club had any inkling who she really was and that she lived in an average looking house in a middle-class neighborhood a good hour’s drive from The Dungeon’s studios. Nowadays she kept her comments generic so, hopefully, none of her fans would think she was coming on to them. Yuck!
As for straightening out Hog and others about her lack of interest in the BDSM lifestyle beyond the role playing she did on a regular and well-paid basis for the camera, forget it. Let them believe she spent her life naked, wearing a collar, and spreading her legs for her master. Only she needed to know she was currently dressed in a shapeless old cotton shirt, too-big shorts, and mismatched socks instead of the corset and fishnet stockings she’d poured herself into for today’s session.
Greetings, she typed. Sorry to be the last to show up, but it’s been a crazy day. What is it with cars? You’d think they could be specific when the ‘check engine’ light comes on. Suffice to say, I’m driving a rental until whatever work needs doing on mine is done. I hope everyone’s comfortable.
Let me take care of things, Sass, Hog replied. Once you’re in my chains and cage, you’ll never have to worry about anything again. Except satisfying me, that is. I’m not an easy master. It takes a lot to please me, and you’re not always going to like the lessons.
What would she want with you? Sass can have her pick of men, can’t you, beautiful? Lawman.
In contrast to Hog’s crude comments, Lawman had a sickeningly sweet way of sucking up to her. Keeping to her self-imposed guidelines regarding personal involvement, she didn’t respond to either man. Instead she wrote, If the counter is right, there are over two hundred of us logged on right now. That’s amazing. Obviously, we’re not all going to be able to talk at once, and since I’m paying for the chat room, I’m going to call the shots. Because this site is linked to The Dungeon, I’m assuming that’s how all of you found me. I want to take a minute to let you know what’s coming up there. An awesome new set will be revealed next week, and we have a couple of guest riggers coming in. I’m going to be working with one of them and that should be exciting. Sass.
Although several men—at least she assumed they were men—started typing, she kept going, touching on soon-to-be-implemented technical improvements in the video delivery. Because she didn’t understand the details, she relied on what she’d been told when she assured her fans that updating their systems to display even clearer images was a simple and safe matter.
It’s amazing what it takes for The Dungeon to be the professional endeavor it is, and of course none of that would happen if not for you, the members, who pay the bills. Everyone associated with The Dungeon has his or her own role but it all comes together. And very well, don’t you think?
Yours is the only role I care about. Yours and the other bondage sluts. Only don’t tell me it’s a role. No way can you be acting when you climax. Hog.
She knew better than to bite. Just the same, her fingers raced over the keys. This has been discussed here several times, Hog. Members want and deserve to know whether they’re viewing the real thing or Academy Award quality acting. I assure you, whatever the camera shows me and the other models doing, we aren’t pretending.
Knew it. You sluts get off on being dominated. That’s what you do in your private life, right? No way you can have so damn much fun on camera and not want to surrender yourself. Got a master? Because if you don’t, I’m applying for the job. Hell, maybe I’ll just kidnap and keep you in my basement. Hog.
When setting up her chats, she’d been assured she could permanently block certain people. One more crude comment from Hog and he’d be added to the list. She was still trying to come up with a civilized reply when someone identifying himself as Reeve beat her to the punch.
Clean up your language. Sass has gone to a lot of effort and is giving of her time to connect with her fans. She’s a lady, got it. A lady.
The hell she is. This is one hot bitch ruled by her pussy, aren’t you Sass? Hog.
You don’t know me, she couldn’t help but reply. You think the person you see on your screen is as far as it goes, but you’re dead wrong. Sass.
What u sayin? U cant be pretending to— Stu.
Those orgasms can’t be faked, Reeve typed. But there’s more to the lady than the way she earns a living. For all we know she’s a lesbian.
Although she wanted to tell Reeve she didn’t have any lesbian tendencies, she held back. Did loudly protesting ever convince anyone of anything?
No response, Sass? Reeve.
Oh I have one all right. I’m just not sure you’d believe it. Sass.
Give me a try. Reeve.
This was different. Most men either fawned all over her trying to gain whatever they thought they’d gain—not that they’d ever get to first base—or tried to pull the macho male act. Instead Reeve, or whoever he was, wanted to banter which was a refreshing change. Here’s the unvarnished truth, at least a bit of it. The me you see at The Dungeon is an employee doing her job. I love what I do, but being a bondage model pays the bills, end of discussion.
Even as she leaned back and studied the words, she couldn’t believe she’d laid herself out like that. From the rapid-fire responses coming in, most of the men had missed the point and were arguing over which of them would get the privilege of stripping her and what they’d do once the last article of clothing was gone. Hog’s suggestions were particularly vulgar while Stu either didn’t get it or didn’t have the necessary vocabulary to express himself. Reeve hadn’t chimed in.
From that the conversation made a right turn to the other Dungeon models. Then, strangely enough, they started debating what might be wrong with her car. She left her computer long enough to pour herself another glass of tea and check her answering machine. Her sister and the man in her life were going to be gone this weekend and since it was going to be hot, would Saree mind watering the outside plants. By the time she’d finished playing telephone tag with Hayley, the hour-long chat was drawing to a close.
Not bothering to catch up on the conversation, she typed: Sorry, but the powers that be are going to pull the plug on us. I don’t have to tell you this if you’ve seen the promo, but I’m going to be featured on this week’s update. I worked with my favorite rigger, and if I do say so myself, it turned out very well. At least I was satisfied with a capital S.
You’re talking about the beefcake with the lame Lone Ranger mask, aren’t you? Much as I hate to admit it, there’s good chemistry between you. The two of you play in private? Maybe more than play? He your master? Hog.
No man’s my master! Not going to happen, ever! Why don’t you take a poll. Ask the others what they think. Sass
But will you tell us whether we’re right? Hog.
Good question. The answer is no. Bottom line, it isn’t any of your business. Sass
Maybe, maybe not. After all, we’re given up close and personal shots of every inch of your incredible body. You’re alive and real, a great smile and huge eyes. Remember, the eyes are the window to the soul. I look into them and it’s as if I can hear your heart beat. I know what makes you laugh and cry. Can you blame me for seeing you as more than just some face and a body on the screen? Reeve.
For some reason she couldn’t quite fathom, it was as if Reeve had reached beyond the Internet and was standing a few feet away waiting for an answer, an honest answer. You’ve made another good point. Let me think about your comments and get back to you.
I’ll be waiting. Reeve
Although the chat had ended the better part of an hour ago, Saree still felt surrounded by it. There wasn’t anything that mysterious about aftereffects was there? After all, as Reeve had said, thanks to modern computers, she’d been connecting with countless strangers, sharing tidbits about mostly hers, but also their, lives. She’d been called a bitch, propositioned, and if she read Stu right, proposed to. Hog had blown it. The next time he tried to sign on, he’d learn he’d been blacklisted.
As for Reeve? That’s what had her feeling surrounded.
Now that she’d had a shower followed by the sandwich that passed for dinner, she had a better handle on things. At least she believed she’d pinpointed what was different about the short exchange with Reeve. She was relatively new to this chat business, but so far he’d been the only man to touch on issues that went beyond skin deep. He’d acknowledged there might be something between her ears.
Might be hardly said it, she acknowledged as she sat in front of her computer. As an example, the past two weeks had been particularly unsettling. Oh, work was churning at its usual frantic pace with some much-appreciated overtime coming up thanks to a shoot involving her and three other models at a private estate.
If Amber Green hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth around the first of the month, they’d be in the middle of filming. Unfortunately, the usually dependable, D-cup Amber had stopped answering her phone. When one of The Dungeon’s directors contacted Amber’s landlord, the landlord had informed him he’d gotten a call from Amber’s father saying there’d been a family emergency and he didn’t know how long she’d be gone.
Saree had worked with Amber a few times, and they had gone out for drinks during which they’d determined that, except for loving sex, they didn’t have a lot in common. Amber was into BDSM and spent much of her free time participating in the scene. Just the same, Saree agreed with others who said it wasn’t like Amber not to stay in touch with her employer.
So where was she?
Speculation was Amber had found the master she’d said she was looking for, but something felt off to Saree.
Not entirely successful in relegating the MIA Amber to the back of her mind, she logged into the mailbox set up to receive emails from those who’d visited her web site. There were fifty some messages, maybe a third of them offering her everything from stock tips to penile enlargement products. The rest were legit although that was a relative term given the content. What was it with some people? When it came to the anonymity of the Internet, nothing was sacred. Were these pornographic messages written at work or maybe at home with a wife and children in another room?
And yet much as she wanted to delete those with such headings as: “Waiting to fuck you”, “Screw king”, and “Bite your lips”, she didn’t dare forget that many had memberships at The Dungeon and thus were responsible for her income.
Thanks for getting in touch, she wrote over and over again. Although she wanted to tell them to go to hell, she didn’t.
Fortunately, not every message made her feel like throwing up. There were a lot of lonely men out there, horny college students, even respectful voyeurs, if there was such a thing. What she didn’t for a minute forget was that she had no way of knowing what was beneath a man’s surface. He might come across as the most trustworthy of gentlemen, but she’d never risk her safety, her life, by agreeing to meet one of them.
Better to limit herself to dating those she met in the normal course of her life, not that that often happened. Such were the consequences of her unusual career.
Reminding herself that her job had made it possible for her to buy her own place while still in her twenties, she was about to log off when a new message came in. The sender’s name stopped her: Reeve.
Just wanted to follow up on what we touched on earlier. I mentioned that being allowed into your sexual world makes people like me feel as if we know you, but that’s wrong. Just because we go to movies and see close-ups of an actress’s lips doesn’t mean we’ve kissed those lips or know what she does at the end of the day. Your privacy has to be vital to you. In contrast to the very public nature of the way you earn a living, I’m sure you separate your public life from what takes place off-screen. When the cameras are off, you remove your false fingernails and jump into the shower where you soap away the marks left by ropes and whips. Then you put on a coffee stained shirt and ratty tennis shoes. You get into a gas-guzzling SUV and head for a crowded freeway where you try not to let road rage get the best of you. Home is a luxury condo with a state of the art security system and security men who tell you about their grandchildren who you then bake cookies for. Your furnishings are sleek and modern with speakers that rock the building. Your closet is the size of most people’s living rooms and you have a white, long-haired cat that barely tolerates you. As for men, hmm, I’m drawing a blank there so will draw on my imagination. The complex’s pool man isn’t called Ever-Ready for nothing and even the security grandpa is good for an occasional round. You nearly got married back in college—you majored in physics with a minor in underwater basket weaving—to the quarterback, but you caught him behind the goalpost with a cheerleader and shoved his engagement ring up his nose. Am I close with any of this?
Laughing, Saree stared at her fingers poised over the keyboard. Should she? Wisdom said no, but hadn’t she taken some huge risks in life? Look where they got her. More than solvent, with a job she enjoyed, most of the time.
Hi Reeve, not even close, I’m afraid. I was raised by Eskimos and by age ten could reduce a whale carcass to a skeleton in two hours. Unfortunately, that earned me a more than little problem with frostbite so I jumped on the next cruise ship heading for the tropics. For the next eight years I supported myself selling bait shrimp and moonlighting as a bartender until a battle between rival commercial fishermen reduced the bar to rubble. I’d been living with a pirate and thought I had it made, but he tried to sell me to a tug boat captain so I took off for California. The details of how I got into the porn industry are a little hazy, but I do remember waking up on the operating table with spectacular boobs—they are something aren’t they—and decided to let them earn their keep. Housing is an old warehouse that was cut into apartments. The roof leaks and the plumbing’s a joke, but it’s cheap. I do have a boyfriend and if you follow professional wrestling, I’m sure you’ve seen Bubba. He recently changed his hair color from orange to blue which works better with his eyes. Believe me, you don’t want to mess with Bubba. Neither do you want to try to carry on a conversation with him for at least three days after he’s lost a match. Now, how about you? Saree
Bubba? You know Bubba? I lost a cool twenty grand betting on that loser. I’m planning on being at his next match, and if he blows it again, I’m climbing into the ring and spreading his nose all over his face. Reeve
Too late, macho man. Someone beat you to the punch. That’s where he is tonight, trying to get his hands on enough money to get his nose put back together. He didn’t say where he was going, and I didn’t ask. Saree
Does that mean you’re alone? Reeve
Not to you, big boy. Not to you. Saree
* * *
Sitting in the dark with the monitor light playing on his features, Reeve Robinson reread what Sass had written. Interesting. Sass, or more accurately Saree McKeon, had a keen sense of humor and was quick-witted judging by how little time it had taken her to reply to his carefully-worded nonsense. Granted, his agenda was multi-layered while she was having fun.
More than having fun, he decided as the minutes stretched out. He intrigued her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have lowered her self-imposed barrier between herself and the faceless, nameless men who fantasized about getting their hands on, and their cocks in, her. Images of countless hands wrapped around countless cocks made him wish he’d mixed his drink stronger, but that was nothing compared to what went on in certain shadowy rooms in shadowy buildings surrounded by impenetrable security systems.
He turned off the computer and stalked to the nearest window. Night hadn’t finished killing the day, but it wouldn’t take much longer and then—
Then the monsters—himself included—came out.
Keep the beast at bay. Damn it, don’t let it loose! Do your job.
Yeah, the job. He’d taken a vital step tonight by introducing himself to Saree. Next came learning whether she had the guts and courage for the role he believed he had no choice but to force on her. Everything he’d learned about her had pointed at her ability to survive, but just as he wore masks, she undoubtedly had her own.
One thing, the woman embraced forced sex or at least the pretense of it. The question of whether her submissiveness was genuine or part of her public façade would be answered, soon. And did it really matter as long as he got her and kept her on her knees?
“I’m hunting you, Saree. Don’t look over your shoulder because you won’t hear me coming until it’s too late. And once we’re together…”
Damn it. He’d had no intention of grabbing his erection. This was simply another assignment and he was a pro. Keeping her captive, naked, helpless, and dependent on him wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
Who the fuck are you trying to fool? his cock demanded.