Moving in on Moriarty

We're getting closer and closer now. I don't know when the novel will be finished, but there aren't all that many stories left at this point. At least, not stories that will show up here.

Is there still interest in these? Are there things you like or want to see more of?

Men make houses, Women make Holmes

            I tap my foot and look at my watch, knowing that the drugs are wearing off. I was very careful picking out the dose. I know his blood type, I know his height and weight, I know everything I need to know to make sure that he would be out as long as I wanted him to be, and not any longer.

            Still, it’s not a perfect science. But I know when to expect him to wake up, so I know about when it will happen. And then the waiting started. I hate waiting.

            Thankfully, he’s coming to. If he had been expecting things, he might have stayed still, feigned unconsciousness until I got close enough for him to do something. But he wasn’t expecting it, and he jerks against the shackles as soon as he realizes they’re on his wrists. He tries to stand up and pulls against the leather strap over his back. He tries to kick and finds his feet hooked both to the floor and to the spreader bar.

            He takes a hard swallow, clears his throat. “Please tell me that’s you, Molly.”

            I step around him and take a seat in the empty chair, more than just barely out of his reach. I smile and cross one leg over the other, letting my skirt slide to the side so he can get a good view of my boots. My new black leather boots, all shiny and perfect, fit so perfectly that they look like a second skin, built so well that I can barely feel the four inch heel when I walk. “Morning, Leland dear.”

            He struggles again, but with less desperation than before. “Where are we?”

            “Somewhere safe,” I tell him. “Somewhere without anyone watching or listening.”

            “You wanted another conversation?”

            I shake my head and give him a little laugh. “No, love, I didn’t think we’d just be talking. This is a play date.”

            “I really wish you’d give me some warning,” he said. “Then I could at least dress for the occasion.”

            “You are dressed for the occasion.”

            He wriggles a little, moves his head around. “I’m wearing shackles and a collar,” he says.

            I nod. “And a condom,” I say.

“But nothing else.”

“Like I said: dressed for the occasion.”

            He sighs. “So what are we doing here?”

            “We’re going to play.”

            “And then what?”

            “Then I’ll let you go.” I gesture to the only door in the room, solid steel and more than a little bit sound proof. “Your clothes are right on the other side of that door. When I’m done, you can decide if you want to leave or not.”

            “If?”

            I smile at him. “You can always choose to stay,” she says. “You can beg me to keep you just as you are. For a day, for a week, forever. You can ask me to keep you as my slave. If you ask nicely, if you beg, I’ll give you what you want.” Then I shrug. “Otherwise, you can just leave and we can go back to this fruitless chasing you’ve been doing.”

            “It’s not all fruitless, Molly. I’ve caught half a dozen of your people and ruined three aliases of yours.”

            I smile. “I know. I’m so proud of you, too. You botched two of my jobs, made me walk away from a fortune rather than risk getting caught. You’re actually making me decide that some things are too risky.”

            “I’m getting closer.”

            I nod at him. “You are,” I say. “And isn’t that enough? Is it really going to take you catching me to prove that you’re good at this?”

            “I know I’m good at it.” He pulls at the chains, tries to adjust himself. I know he isn’t uncomfortable. That’s a pretty soft cushion he’s lying on, and the shackles are only tight enough to keep him from taking them off. They’re padded on the inside too, so even if he pulls too hard, he won’t hurt himself. “That’s how I know I’m going to catch you.”

            I stand up and pat him on the head. “Of course you are,” I tell him. “But today, I caught you.”

            “Yeah, about that.” I take a few steps behind him and start slipping on the harness, buckling it around my thighs and behind my back. “How did you do that?”

            “I drugged you,” I say. It should have been obvious.

            “I know, but how?”

            I squeeze the tube and it makes an obscene wet squirting sound as my palm fills with lubricant. “You tell me,” I say.

            He jumps a little when I start to rub the liquid over and into his butt. It’s cold, but there’s nothing I can do about that. He’ll forget about that sensation so quickly that it’s barely worth addressing.

            “You didn’t use a dart,” he says. “I would remember the feeling.”

            I rub the remaining lubricant over the big rubber phallus sticking through my harness. “No, there was no dart.”

            I press against his asshole. “Shh,” I say. “Just relax. You said yourself this was something you wanted.”

            He takes a deep breath. “I said I wouldn’t be opposed to it in different circumstances.”

            I nod and put one hand on his back, then push forward just a little bit, making him grunt. “And how much more different do you want things to be?”

            “I want you to just be a law abiding citizen,” he says.

            “This isn’t illegal,” I tell him, pushing a little bit farther in. He still hasn’t relaxed, and I don’t want to push too hard too fast. He might get hurt, and some of the inner tissue might tear. That could be dangerous, and I don’t want my darling Leland to get septic. “We’re not even in one of the states that still has an anti-sodomy law.”

            I can almost see his brain working, trying to figure out what that means. Does he have no idea where we are? Is he trying to work out our location based on conversation?  There’s no sign of snow on the floor, no sign that I had a coat on or even with me. I’m wearing a skirt, so that suggests a certain temperature threshold. It’s possible that I changed; after all, his clothes are on the other side of the door, and there’s no reason to believe that’s outside.

            I hold still, waiting for him to relax, feeling the strap on like it’s an extension of myself.

            Not a northern state, at least probably. Late in the year to really let a lack of snow be a determining factor. But definitely not Alaska, so that’s a plus. That, plus the thirteen states with sodomy laws, eliminates fourteen states. He can tell that I’m not dressed too scantily, which suggests that it’s not overly hot out either.

            Not enough information, not yet. He sighs in frustration, and I feel him loosen up a bit. I thrust forward hard and fast, and he gasps at the sudden intrusion. I can’t help but laugh.

            “See?” I say, “I knew you’d like it.”

            He takes a breath and seems to be concentrating on relaxing. I keep pushing forward with steady force until he lets me all the way in, all the way to the hilt.

            “Kidnapping,” he says. I pull out. “Kidnapping is—” He gasps in pleasure as I thrust back in. I laugh again. “Kidnapping is still illegal,” he says, his voice weaker than it was.

            “You have an abduction fantasy,” I say. “I’m not going to hold you long enough for you to even be considered,” I pull out and thrust again, and he moans, “legally missing.”

            His head drops down, and I can hear him trying to get control of his breathing. Just when it sounds like he might have a handle on it, I pull out and thrust again, this time with three rhythmic jabs against his prostate.

            I run my fingernails down his back, moaning a little bit myself as I feel the muscles bunch in an effort to arch his back.

            “How did you do it?” he asks again.

            “I told you,” I say, pounding again, making him cry out with that wonderful sound again. I pump a few times, watching his skin turn red and feeling him loosen up and tighten around the strap on as I peg him.

            “No,” he says, stopping to moan a little, “no you didn’t. You just,” another gasp of pleasure, “that it wasn’t a dart.”

            “It wasn’t.”

            “Then,” moan, “what” groan, “was,” gasp, “it?”

            “Coffee,” I say. “I know how much you,” I pull out and thrust all the way in, hard. “love coffee.” His head pulls back and the moan that escapes his lips is louder than any so far.

            I could reach around and play with him a bit, but the more rhythmically I pump his ass, the more certain I am that he isn’t going to need any help from me.

            “Just think,” I say, moving just a little bit at a time, gently rubbing the strap on against his prostate, listening to the sweet music of his moans. “If you stayed with me, if you were just going to be my slave, we could do this all the time.” I pull out and shove in deep again. He groans. “I could fuck you night after night,” I say, giving him a few more hard poundings. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

            He whimpers in pleasure.

            I stop all movement. He pushes against me as best he can, all but completely lost to the lust, but I don’t continue. I let the sensation die down a bit, pulling almost all the way out, letting him know it’s there, but not letting him enjoy it anymore. His breath, heavy and near orgasmic just a few seconds ago, starts to slow down and gain an undercurrent of whine.

            “Wouldn’t you?” I ask, my voice colder than before. He nods. “Say it,” I say. “Ask me to do it.”

            “Please,” he says.

            “Please what?”

            “Please Mistress Molly.”

            I love it when he calls me that. “What do you want me to do, Leland my dear?”

            “Please fuck me Mistress Molly.”

            Good enough. I shove in deep, and it only takes that one last thrust to push him all the way back up the hill, to send him flying over it into a screaming orgasm as he shoots himself into the condom. I keep going for a few seconds more, pushing the waves of pleasure to a slightly higher crescendo for him, letting him drown, just a little, in endorphins, and only pulling out when he starts to move from pleasure into pain. He gasps when I remove the strap on, and his ass gapes a little. I stifle the laugh and clean off my toy. I may have threatened him, but I wouldn’t really make him suck it clean.

            Once it is clean, though, I walk back around in front of him. His eyes stay down, though I’m not entirely sure if he’s looking at my boots or at the rubber cock just a few inches from his mouth.

            “Just think about it,” I say. “Think how great it would be. You could do this every night. We could do this all the time.”

            “There,” he takes a breath, trying to get his heart rate down, trying to get the blood pumping to his brain again. Another deep breath, and he looks up at me, his eyes darting back down every time I move. “There has to be more than sex, Molly.”

            “There will be,” I say. “There’s the whole world. I can give you the whole world, Leland. I have money.”

            “Stolen,” he says.

            “So what? I have it, and it’s enough for us to do anything we want. We can go anywhere we want to. Tropical islands, historic sights, wherever—”

            “Unless there’s an extradition treaty,” he says.

            I shrug, then smirk a little as the rubber cock flops up and down a bit. “Point is, we can have a lot more than just sex.”

            He shakes his head. “I can’t Molly. I’m going to put you in jail, where you belong.”

            I sigh. “Are you sure?”

            He nods. “I’m sorry.”

            I bend over next to him and carefully roll off the filled condom. I stand up and let him watch me tie off one end. “So am I,” I say.

            “What are you doing?”

            I sigh. “It’s insurance, lover.” I put the condom into a small super cooled container.

            “You’re freezing my sperm?” I nod. He laughs. “You planning on having a baby?”

            “For you, I would,” I say. “But no, that’s not why.”

            “Then why?”

            “Do you know how credible a witness is when they’ve had sex with the person they testify against?”

            He frowns at me.

            “Especially if it was recent,” I say.

            “You’re going to claim I raped you?”

            I look at him with shock. “Of course not! I would never do that.” I’m not faking this anger. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that.” Ah, so that’s what people sound like when they’re really hurt.

            He immediately gets a look of apology on his face. “Sorry,” he says. “I know that. I don’t know why I said it. I’m sorry.”

            I take a deep breath and decide that I definitely don’t want to leave him here. And I wouldn’t want someone to find his body in that position. And I don’t want him dead. He’s Leland. He’s my Leland. He didn’t mean anything by it. And he apologized, so it’s okay. I just have to accept his apology and then pretend it never happened.

            Another breath.

            “If you ever try to testify against me,” I tell him, “I’ll reveal our relationship.”

            “I’ll insist it’s over.”

            I smile at him. “And I’ll prove that it isn’t.” I hold up the cool container. “And I’ll have this for proof.”

            “You’re just evil.”

            I smirk at him. “Nah, I’m way more than that.”

            He pulls against his chains. “Please just give up, Molly. Don’t make me kill you.”

            I bend down and give him a slow but passionate kiss. “I won’t,” I say, as I pull away from him. I hook one finger into his collar. “But next time we do this, I probably will make you suck my dick.” I stare into his eyes and give him another smirk. “Whether it’s before or after will depend on whether or not you’re a good boy.”

            I step back and turn away from him. Pick the stun gun off the table. I spin and point it at him.

            “So be good,” I say. I pull the trigger and watch him writhe as his muscles all suddenly tense. The sound of his pain is so delicious, and his sudden and complete slack of every muscle is even better. Completely unable to move, conscious but probably unaware; it’s like the most complete submission he’s ever given me.

            I unlock his wrists and leave the keys on the floor underneath his limp fingers. I run my hand through his hair a few times and give him one last kiss before I slip out the door.