Belinda smiled nervously, her long, black hair twitching
in the slight Arizona mountain breeze as she placed her two suitcases on the
porch beside her. For a brief moment she wondered if she should have worn
something more conservative than the low cut white blouse and black, knee
length skirt currently adorning her petit frame. But she wanted to impress him.
She always did. Even her heels were worn to impress the man into whose care she
was placing herself.
Shaking free of her thoughts, she made a fist and raised a
hand to knock on the door. To her surprise the door opened; there, standing
before her was Harper, wearing blue jeans and a tight fitting, white t-shirt,
his large frame virtually filling the doorway.
For a brief moment Harper took in her lovely form. “It’s
about time!” he said.
Instantly she was in Harper’s arms, warmly embracing the
large man as he held her. “Traffic was Hell!” she told him, thoroughly enjoying
the firm warmth of his embrace.
Harper looked up to see the cab leaving his circular drive.
He let her go and invited her into his large home. As Belinda bent to get her
suitcase he chided her and demanded she leave them to his attention.
Once inside the pair sat down beside one another on his
brown leather couch. After quickly hugging him another time she leaned back and
looked over the place.
“White and brown, eh?” she mused, noting the simplicity
of his home’s décor. “No pictures, nothing. Just a couch, a couple of recliners
and your television. Just like you. Simple.”
He leaned forward and knocked on the oak coffee table.
“Don’t forget the coffee table.”
Belinda smiled and nodded her head as she rolled her
eyes. “I’m sure the bedroom is far more opulent.”
“Well, yeah. It’s where I torture my victims.”
“What no dungeon?”
Harper laughed. “I have a work shop out back. It used to
be a barn. I make some fun things there. I have a few fun things already made,
too.” He grinned. “But, yeah, the bedroom is more ‘opulent,’ as you say.” He
made air quotes with his fingers.
“Well, I expect the guest bedroom is a bit less
“Oh, that’s so sad!”
Belinda giggled. “I think this time we should keep things
on a friendship only basis. The last time I visited you nearly killed me.”
“You’re just saying that because you had a hard time
Belinda giggled. “It’s hard to walk when every step makes
He laughed. “I can only imagine. And it’s quite a feat
considering how much you dislike anal sex, but you should know, I thoroughly enjoyed
fucking your ass. Even if you claim to have disliked it.”
A snort escaped her and she shook her head. “You’re a bad
man. It isn’t just a claim. It’s a fact.”
“I disagree about it being a fact. As for being bad: Why,
yes, yes I am!”
After a pleasant time chatting, wherein Belinda related
to Harper her more recent travails, the pair sat down to dinner. There they
made more small talk as they enjoyed a lovely and satisfying meal of chicken,
baked potatoes and steamed broccoli.
“I really appreciate you taking me in,” Belinda told him.
“I was really shocked when you offered – even more so when you bought my plane
Harper stared at her for a short moment, noting the
slight cleavage peeking out from her close fitting, white blouse. Glancing at
her form, largely hidden by the dinner table, he thought to times past when she
had belonged to him; to memories of other times, long after their breakup, when
she had visited and given herself to him for brief moments. He remembered her
strapped to a bench, knees brought up beside her head and with arms wrapped
round her thighs, wrists strapped behind so she was utterly helpless to be used
as he pleased.
It had always been that way with Belinda. She could never
give him what he wanted. Nevertheless, he had taken. It was, in truth, what she
needed. He knew it. They both did.
“You needed me,” was Harper’s simple reply. “And I do
love you. You know that.”
She nodded. “I know. I love you, too.” She looked
thoughtful for a moment. “I do wish I could be what you need,” Belinda told
him. “It would make life so much easier for us both if I could. And I know you
would take good care of me. You already do, and we aren’t even together.”
“Why did you leave exactly?”
She rolled her eyes, wiping her lips with the white,
cloth napkin and placing it on the table beside her empty plate. Belinda leaned
back and shook her head. “You always ask me that.” She shook her head and
laughed. “You know why I left.”
“Because you couldn’t be a slave. That’s what you say.”
“And because I couldn’t do the things you wanted me to
Harper grinned. “You did them anyway. And you liked doing
“No. I liked pleasing you. That’s why I came like I did.
Otherwise,” she paused and looked up at the ceiling and back at Harper,
“otherwise I would never have let you force me into doing those things.”
“Let me?” Harper cocked an eyebrow.
Belinda grinned and pushed back her chair. “Yes. I never
would have allowed you to do those things to me if I hadn’t wanted to please
you, Harp. And, yes, ‘allowed’ is the correct word.”
“Why did you ‘allow’ me to do those things, exactly?” he
asked, sarcastically emphasizing her chosen phrase.
“Because you love me. Because I liked pleasing you, and I
know you would never do anything to hurt me.” She stood just then, telling him
she wanted to get into her pajamas. “Where is my bedroom?”
Harper smiled, wiped his lips with his napkin and stood.
“Right this way,” he said. Stepping away from the table, he gathered her
suitcases and led her to the guest bedroom.
After Harper departed the bedroom, and as Belinda opened
her suitcase to remove her things, she took a deep breath and sighed. The man
was far too attractive and knew her far too well. Already she found herself
wanting. Regardless, she well knew that giving into her wants would be far from
productive. There was simply no way she could fathom being what he wanted.
Besides, his fetishes were ridiculously beyond her, regardless of the many
times she had indulged him. Granted, she had enjoyed herself immensely. But
living as he wished was simply too much to imagine.
This time, she told herself, things would be different.
She would not fall into the trap of being ‘friends with benefits,’ nor would
she allow herself to hope for something more. Harper was, for all his wonderful
characteristics, not the man for her. Thus, no matter how she might want to
enjoy his tall, muscular body, she would refrain. So she decided.
Once in her loose-fitting blue and white pajamas, Belinda
made her way to the living room. There, seated on the couch, and still wearing
his blue jeans and t-shirt, was Harper. Handsome as ever, Belinda wanted
nothing more than to be with him. His presence alone made her wet with desire. Regardless,
she dismissed those wants as she approached, flopping down on the couch beside
“Do you remember – way back when – when I wanted to make
you into my slave?” asked Harper.
She nodded. “You did make me into your slave. I was your
slave for a year.”
“No. I mean into a permanent slave.”
“You mean with the permanent bondage stuff?”
“Yeah. It freaked me out.”
Grinning, Harper eased up and reached behind the couch.
“I thought you would come to your senses,” he said, holding up a set of wide, metal
cuffs and holding one out to her. “I made these after I got all set up here.
The edges are all rounded so as not to be uncomfortable.”
A sudden wave of arousal came over Belinda. She shook it
off, though not without effort. “They look nice,” she said, taking the proffered
cuff and looking it over. “You aren’t using them on me, though.”
“They aren’t round like a lot of cuffs. I made them to
fit the wrist. Your wrist specifically. I have a collar, too.”
“You still aren’t using any them on me.”
Ignoring her, Harper continued. “See the hinge and the
little holes in the back?”
“Close it. You’ll notice the hinge is invisible.”
Belinda closed one of the cuffs and nodded. “Yeah. You
can’t see it. But how does it lock shut? All I see are the little rings on
either side. I don’t see a lock.”
“Well, I have a couple of little pins that fit inside.
They thread in one side and snap into the other.” He reached into the pocket of
his jeans and withdrew the pins. “See how the one end is threaded and the other
is sort of like an arrowhead?”
“Once they close the little arrowhead compresses a
little. Note the slight notch in the tip?”
Belinda took the tiny pin and held it up to the light.
“Yeah. Pretty groovy. But how do you get it apart?”
“You don’t. Not without some very careful cutting.”
Belinda shivered, her nipples suddenly hard as she
realized the cuffs were meant to be permanent. “Is the collar made the same
“I hope you get a chance to use them some day,” Belinda
said, suddenly avoiding eye contact. She shifted in her seat and handed the
cuff back to Harper.
“I have a set for your ankles, too.”
“Not my ankles, mister! There is no way in Hell you are
making me into a permanent slave.” She got up suddenly and stretched. “I think
it’s time for bed.”
“It’s nine, Belinda.” His voice became suddenly stern.
In spite of her words, Belinda’s arousal would not be
denied, and she found her will evaporating.
Suddenly on the couch beside him, she shook her head to
clear her mind. Briefly recovering, she shook her head. “I can’t be what you
want, Harp. I can’t.”
“I’m not that girl. I have a life to lead. I can’t just
be a sex slave, serving you and your wants.”
Again, he asked, “Why not?”
“Because it’s not me. Because I don’t like the things you
like. More importantly, I don’t want those things. They aren’t for me.”
Harper smiled and nodded. “Okay.” He turned and picked up
the television remote and pointed it at the television where it hung on the
wall. “What do you want to watch?”