Chapter Six

Reyna slammed the phone down on Zeke’s answering machine. This made strike three. No mother. No father. And no Jason either. When she’d tried him, just a few moments ago, he’d been as good as not there himself, sounding as cold and distant as his ice queen of a mother.

“I’ve got to clear my head,” he’d explained, the sound of rushing wind blowing around the speaker of his cell telling her he was out driving. “You know how it is.”

No, Reyna didn’t know. How was she supposed to know? And exactly how was it supposed to be, anyway, when you finally take a chance on loving somebody and then they blow you off because of family issues?

“Gotta go,” he finally told her, breaking the long silence. “See you around.”

See you around. Like she was a billboard or something. Reyna hugged the pillow, digging herself into the old-fashioned four-poster bed, legs drawn up, like one of the rollie pollies her daddy used to catch for her when she was small. So this was how love went. No explanations, no warnings, just gone. She was so tired of men acting like little boys. They were all like that. Even her father. Why hadn’t he been there to answer? Where was he so early in the morning? she wondered. He never got up before ten.

And where was her mother? What was all that about, taking off in the middle of the night, leaving her to clean up the mess, in a town that wasn’t hers with no more explanation than a stupid little note that said, ‘Be back soon,’ like she’d gone off to the store or something?

Reyna pulled herself tighter, willing the pain to go away. The clamps, the whip and chains were nothing compared to this. It was ten years since she’d cried and she wasn’t about to turn into a baby again now, not after all these years. Why didn’t anyone understand what it was like for her? And why was she always alone, misunderstood, abandoned? Deep down, it ached. It was sexual, mental, all in one. She needed someone so bad.

Someone to accept her, nurture her, make her feel alive. Make her feel normal. But how could she, with a whacked out mother who one minute was acting like a saint she could never live up to, and the next minute outdoing her in sluttiness? Right now, Cynthia was probably out partying, doing drugs even. What a joke! It had been her mother’s paranoia, her holier-than-thou obsessions that had driven her away to her father Zeke at age twelve. The last straw had been after she’d let a boy walk her home from school and had ended up submitting to full-blown search and seizure from the Cynthia Gestapo after he left.

Reyna was supposed to be such a good girl. Serious, ambitious, studious. Perfect. The nagging was endless. Can’t you dress up more, Reyna? What if we joined a church Reyna, then you could go to youth group. Red isn’t a good color on you, Reyna, it gives boys ideas. Where’s the rest of that outfit, Reyna? On and on, till she couldn’t even think straight much less know what to be in her life.

Zeke was cool and she was thrilled when he’d said she could come live with him. Cynthia took her to the bus station, never saying a word. At first she was in heaven. No bedtime, no vegetables, and no parent patrol. The kids at the new school were pretty cool too, for country folk. But then she started getting into stuff she couldn’t handle and pretty soon she was wishing for some rules, any rules.

So back she went with Cynthia the next summer. There was a honeymoon, lots of mother-daughter hugs, fuzzy slipper times and brownie making. By fall, though, it started in again. All she could remember after that was fighting, and being so tired of it she could scream. It seemed like that’s all she did. Argue, fight, and get on another bus.

Zeke was a drinker. She wasn’t a fool; she knew that made a difference. Though he never laid a hand on her, he could get sullen, withdrawn. He had a temper and bar room brawls were a pretty regular occurrence. On Friday nights, they had a routine so if he got arrested she knew how to get him bailed out. The bondsman was on a first name basis with her. Zeke also moved a lot. The last time she was with him he’d made it all the way up to Richmond, Virginia.

She prided herself on fixing up all his places and sometimes she felt like his little wife. Zeke had lots of girlfriends, though. He wasn’t the best looking or most athletic guy (he had a skinny, small muscled build) but he was a smooth talker with a pair of blue eyes Cynthia had said were irresistible. The several-times-broken nose didn’t help much, but when his long hair was combed out, he wasn’t half-bad. Anyhow, in the circles he traveled, he was a regular Prince Charming.

Their understanding was that Reyna kept out of the way when he had women over. In exchange, he kept well away from her business—not that this helped her much in the long run. There were a few of his ladies she liked, such as the halfway pretty, feathered blonde named Tonya, who was real petite and wore Indian jewelry and sexy dresses. She drank a lot, too, but she always asked Reyna about her schoolwork and boyfriends, which she liked. It was kind of nice to have a woman to talk to who didn’t judge every statement coming out of her mouth.

Once Reyna saw Zeke and Tonya having sex. She’d been on the way to the bathroom of the single wide trailer he had at the time and it was hard to miss because both of them had been too plowed to remember to close the plywood door to the master bedroom. Tonya had nothing on but Indian feather earrings and turquoise cowgirl boots. She was tied up, on her stomach in what Reyna later learned was a hog-tie position, hands behind her back and secured to her ankles with bright yellow rope.

The incredible thing was that Zeke had maneuvered her so that he was sitting with his legs on either side of her, pushing his pelvis into her face. The back of her head, the only part of her she could move, was bobbing up and down on him. Zeke had on his black cowboy hat, the one with the ostrich feather, and he was leaning back on the headboard, arms behind his head. His long curly mustache was kind of fluttering as he smiled, eyes closed, drawing in satisfied little breaths.

Reyna was fifteen at the time and since it was the first time she’d seen sex, she kind of assumed that’s how everyone did it, tying the female first. A few days later, while Zeke was at work, laying some sheet rock at a new housing development, she explored the drawers of his tiger fur covered dresser and found the handcuffs, along with a jar of Vaseline and an artificial penis, the purpose of which she grasped intuitively.

The rope she found in the closet, but all of it terrified her so much, she never dared to look in there again. Every time she saw Tonya or one of the others, it made her giggle, knowing what Zeke was going to do to them. Especially the arrogant, snotty ones, the ones who thought a kid like her was beneath their dignity. She’d just smile, eyes flashing as she’d imagine her dad stripping one of them and putting her on her stomach, to be roped like a steer.

It made Reyna hot, even now. Drawn by a force she didn’t understand, she climbed down from the bed and went to the full-length mirror. It was like there was a Voice inside her, not her own which she had to obey. The Voice had lots of ideas. First she had to strip down, pulling off the t-shirt so she was completely naked. This act alone made her hot, and as she began to stimulate her own nipples and touch her cunt. She felt so slutty she couldn’t stand it.

The Voice told her to spread her legs now and display herself. Using her fingers, she opened her cunt lips. There was a dildo in a secret spot in one of her suitcases and she wanted at it real bad. Except the Voice insisted she be sopping wet first, dripping even. Massaging her clit, she achieved the desired end. Wanting proof, the Voice had her smear the glistening liquid on her belly and tits.

‘Very good,’ it soothed malevolently. ‘You may get the dildo. On your hands and knees, of course.’ Reyna crawled, head down, from the master bedroom to the room where her luggage was stored. The dildo was a semi soft kind and it had taken all her nerve to buy it before coming down here. Anticipating endless boredom, she’d looked forward to some intense scenes with herself.

In order to humiliate herself further, she placed the object inside her right there, so that as she crawled back to the bedroom she’d be fully penetrated the whole time. It went in easy, almost suctioning itself. It was going to feel funky, on her hands and knees all the way back to Cynthia’s old room, filled this way.

No, not Cynthia’s room. The back yard. Her head whirled with the idea. It made her weak all over, but so aroused she nearly came at the thought of it. That’s what the Voice wanted, what it demanded: She must crawl to the garage, fetch the duct tape, the same roll Cynthia used and then go out into the backyard, to somehow put herself on display, in any way she could manage alone.

That way she’d be trapped and someone could find her, and maybe use her if they chose. It was bright in the garage, on account of the big door being open, which meant anyone could see her now. She didn’t have any choice, any way to stop it as she paraded, like a female animal, cunt plugged, on all fours, primed and ready for the lowest sort of humiliation she could self-inflict.

The concrete prickled. It was rough, just like the floor of the storage shed, where once she’d loved a boy, and been loved back. But now, there was only her imagination and the limitless heights and depths she could achieve by it. Clenching her thighs, she tried to keep back the first waves of orgasm, but as she moved they came anyway. Eyes closed she went, inch by inch by inch, bracing herself.

“Well, what have we here?”

Reyna’s eyes popped open. She looked up. It was Meredith, in a red dress and red pumps, her hair done up on her head, looking very fit, very amused and very smug behind her dark glasses.

A dark chill passed down her spine, fear replacing the sexy danger she’d been feeling. Scrambling to her knees, she tried to conceal herself, to very little effect.

“Uh uh,” Meredith shook her head, wagged her finger, “back down you go.”

Reyna cocked her head, uncertain. Meredith couldn’t order her around, could she?

Studying her impeccably matching red nails and sounding bored, Meredith said, “I think you better do as I say, Reyna, unless you want your mother to rot in jail. And yourself along with her for indecent exposure.”

“My—my mother?”

“Yes, dear. I had her arrested, you know.”

“What—what for?”

Meredith pulled off her glasses. “That give you a clue?”

She was sporting a huge shiner. Wow! Way to go Cynthia! Forcing back laughter, Reyna returned to her hands and knees, deciding not to incite the woman any further.

“Come over here and kiss my foot,” Meredith said, putting out one leg, arching her calf muscle. “Give me an idea how you’ll be later when you service my cunt.”

A wet thrill shot through the girl as she moved to obey. It had never occurred to her, never entered her thoughts that she might play games like this with an older woman. And such a bitchy one at that. Very delicately now, she licked the front of the expensive shoe, the dildo still firmly tucked inside of her.

Meredith laughed lightly, seeing her diligence. With surprising gentleness, she said, “Don’t worry about your mother, young lady. I’ve arranged for her to get what she needs most, and from the hands of a real pro. After that, I think she’ll find life will look up for her in many ways.”

Reyna didn’t know why, but she trusted this woman. Like she really would do good things for them.

“Better come inside, sweetie." Meredith moved gracefully to the open front door and Reyna followed, like a puppy.

“How about we get you cleaned up and dressed, huh, kiddo?”

Reyna looked up from the living room floor, strangely disappointed. “But aren’t you going to...”

“Fuck you, dear?” Meredith’s grin slanted wickedly as she folded her arms. “No, not just yet. You see, I haven’t quite figured out yet which you are, top or bottom. I need to do an experiment first. Up for a road trip?”

She nodded. Though she knew she shouldn’t be.

Meredith never touched her the whole time she was in the shower, though she insisted the door be kept open so she could watch. Her every movement was scripted as Merry told her in graphic detail how to clean herself. Largely, it was an exercise in voyeurism, the actual hygiene part having been accomplished in the first five minutes.

The woman’s instructions, which were cool and crafted, drove her to distraction as she was made to stimulate but not relieve herself. By the time she was done the soap was worn almost to the shape of her dildo and yet she’d been denied even a single orgasm. It almost hurt to towel herself, she was so sensitive.

“These will do,” Meredith said, picking out a black miniskirt and white see through blouse for her to wear. “Come and put them on.”

Reyna looked at the skimpy outfit laid out for her on the bed. Cynthia hated such clothes on her, and even Reyna herself had to be in just the right mood to pull it off. Swallowing she asked, “What about underwear?”

“You don’t need any, dear. Not where we’re going.” Pulling a cell phone from her purse, she made a call to someone named Foster, ascertaining that he’d finished a job for her. Meredith fired questions, kept saying ‘good’, in response to his answers.

The content of these questions, totally sexual and sadistic, were making her flush all over. Pulling on the scant outfit with trembling hands, she tried not to listen.

“You used the electrodes on her nipples and cunt? Good.”

Buttoning the blouse, she saw with horror that the flimsy material did not even begin to conceal her rosy nipples or aureoles.

“And you used her both anally and vaginally? Good.”

Smoothing the skirt, she tried to imagine how she’d walk around like this. She could feel the air wafting up inside of her, titillating, aggravating.

“Did you come on her face? It dried there? Good.”

Reyna bit her lip, rubbed her legs together. With her hands, she caressed her silk covered tits.

“And she was shackled the whole time? Good.”

Reyna felt a hand in her hair, interrupting her reverie.

“No touching,” Meredith chastised, pulling harder till she had to put her hands down. Then on the phone she added, “No, let her get cleaned up and leave her some cab money. I want you and Tony to meet us here with the big car. We’ll be gone before she gets back here. Bye.”

Reyna’s eyes lit up. It dawned on her now that the tortured woman Meredith was talking about was her mother. “You cunt!” she screamed, grabbing at the woman’s neck.

Meredith moved so swiftly that Reyna never had time to react. It was some kind of karate, and in one move, she was down, the older woman on top of her. Laid out flat on her back, arms pinned over her head, squirming uselessly, she cried, “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

“Quit whining,” Meredith chastised, releasing the girl’s hands so she could pull down her panties and mount the younger girl’s face. “It doesn’t become you.”

Reyna dabbed her tongue at the proffered pussy, enjoying the feel of servicing this strong woman who was everything she wished she and her mother could be. When Meredith began to moan softly, throwing back her head in pleasure, Reyna swelled with pride, determined to give her the best head she’d ever had.

But Meredith didn’t let her finish. “Wipe your face,” she instructed, climbing off her and throwing her a towel. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

Confused, way beyond aroused, Reyna stood, letting Meredith finish her outfit by taking the long strand of pearls from her own neck and putting it on hers. She thought she’d faint as the taller woman stood behind her, her breath a whisper in her ear, her long fingernails bestowing electrifyingly light touches as she reconnected the shimmering pearls. Reyna wanted to melt against her, wanted to give herself, an untouched vessel to be opened and discovered by this mysterious goddess.

But Meredith was holding them both back, keeping them for something else. What that might be she had no idea. She only knew that as they walked out the door that she was floating, feeling alive as she never had in her life.

It was like a dream seeing the limousine in her driveway. The driver was one of the biggest men she’d ever seen, but affable enough with his long ponytail and his funny accent. She tried to correct him when he opened the door for her and called her Sheila, but Meredith explained that this was a term for any girl in his country. Reyna had never even met a person from outside the United States, nor had she ever been in a car big enough to have a bar and a television.

There was another guy, much smaller, and he was making a show of looking her up and down. Scantily clad and barefoot, she must have been a fetching sight. She’d wanted her flip flops, but Merry said they weren’t real shoes and she was better off without them. The seat was way soft, and Reyna sighed happily as she sat. Leaving the smaller man, Tony, to drive her car home, Meredith got in after her and closed the door.

Cynthia had told her once she’d ridden in a limo when her mother died, but there wasn’t any bar. “Can I have something to drink?” Reyna asked, wishing Merry had sat next to her and not in the row of seats facing her.

“Not unless you’re twenty-one, dear.”

“No,” she laughed, “I meant soda.” She wondered now how T-Top was doing, speaking of not drinking. He’d bragged about going through rehab four times. Personally, she wasn’t planning on going back even a second time. Six weeks of having her brain picked apart by shrinks and support groups was enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Idly, Reyna imagined what it would have been like if she’d bedded the gangly T-Top. God, she thought, squeezing her legs, was her every thought going to turn to sex today? This wasn’t like her. Yes, she flirted all of the time, even threw herself at males, but that was all reverse psychology, designed to scare them off. Cynthia never had understood that about her.

No one had. Except Jason. She hadn’t rattled him with her sexiness at all. In fact, he’d called her bluff and won her heart—not to mention her body. She hoped he’d enjoyed the prize. She certainly had. Damn it, she missed him.

“Miami is a long way off, kiddo,” Meredith interjected, kicking off her shoes and flexing her bare toes against Reyna’s knees from across the other seat. “Too long for such a sad face.”

Reyna parted her legs, set her hands down next to her, palms up. “What’s in Miami?”

“Paradise, if you play your cards right.”

“Hmm,” Reyna sighed, arching her back. “So cut the deck already.”

Meredith pulled back her taunting feet. “Open the compartment by the door,” she instructed. Reyna’s heart began to thud as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Steel and very real looking.

“Lay down, arms over your head and chain yourself to the little strap by the door handle. That’s right, run the links through the opening.”

Reyna had to lie flat on her back, stretching herself on the very rich black upholstery. She had to bend her head all the way back and it was tricky but finally she succeeded in closing the second cuff on her wrist, the chain running between the ends of the strap beside the door handle.

She was a prisoner now and she shuddered with wicked delight as she settled herself into a position of sweet bondage, laid out on the limo seat. Anticipating quick release, she thrust out her breasts and opened her legs as invitingly as she could manage. Did Meredith find her pretty? She hoped so. Looking across, she expected to see the woman undressing, making a move. But she just sat there, legs crossed, sipping a glass of champagne.

“Tell me what you want, Reyna.”

“I want to come.”

She shook her head. “No, sweetie, what you want is a cock. Say it.”

“I want a cock,” she heard herself say.

“I could give you to Foster, you know.” She paused now for dramatic emphasis. “He’s the one I sent to your mother. Do you know she’s such a pain slut she actually begged for it? I bet you’ll beg, too, Reyna.”

Reyna stiffened, her pleasure seeking urges suddenly overridden by pure venom. No one could hurt her mother and get away with it. “I’ll never beg, you smug bitch. No matter what you do to me! And whatever you did to Cynthia, I’ll do to you twice as bad!”

Meredith removed her sunglasses, studied the captive’s face. “Yes,” she agreed at last, “I believe you would.” Leaning forward to unzip her red dress, she pulled it over her head. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

Reyna watched as she crawled across the seat, clad only in black panties and bra. Her body really was superb, fit and trim. “Of course,” she crooned, unbuttoning Reyna’s blouse, “I do still have to punish you.”

She moaned as Meredith seized her left nipple between her teeth. In between bites she said, “Just so you know, your mother could have stopped it at any point. Foster gave her a safe signal, but she never used it.”

“I don’t trust you,” Reyna moaned, as she felt teeth clamping her other nipple.

Meredith’s hands were under her skirt, seizing her cunt with her long nails. “Oh, I agree, honey, you shouldn’t trust me at all. Now tell me again what a bitch I am.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

“What I am right now is your Mistress, aren’t I?” Meredith said, pricking her to the verge of orgasm and holding her there.

Reyna threw back her head, caught up in the moment. “Yes! Yes, Mistress!”

“If I give you to Foster, you will crawl to him and service him with your slut body, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she hissed, her voice a spurt of uncaged air. “I’ll do anything.”

“Like you laid for my son? And his little girlfriends?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Meredith snaked a finger into her rectum, maintaining the vaginal pressure. “Suppose we just pick up some hitchhiker for you, hmm? Do you feel up for a little unprotected sex with a derelict?”

From her head to her feet she was spasming, seeking out release, desperately pressing her enflamed nude body against Meredith. “I’ll do whatever you say,” she conceded at last, her pride and will surrendered to the heat of the older woman’s touch.

Twisting her other hand cruelly onto an exposed heaving breast, Meredith made Reyna beg. And so she did, tears welling up, as she said the most outrageous things, promising her very soul, betraying everyone and everything she ever knew. At last, when she was so near the breaking point she thought her very identity might shatter, Meredith consented to finish her off.

With a flick of the wrist, like turning a faucet, Meredith brought her to orgasm. She shuddered and shook; all of her, orgasm included, belonged at that moment to the will of Meredith Trace. When she finally came to her senses, she found herself still cuffed, lying on the seat. Meredith was sitting across from her with a fresh glass of champagne. She’d removed her panties and now she was sitting bare assed on the seat, looking at her hungrily, eyes glowing like a cat’s as she sipped the sparkling liquid.

“Well, dear,” she crooned, “glad to see you’re still with us. It’s a good thing, too, because now it’s my turn.”

Reyna licked her lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

Meredith leaned across and ran a finger over Reyna’s mouth. “If I let you go, little kitten, will you bite or play nice?”

Taking the finger deep, she showed Merry what she would do, licking and sucking it luxuriantly. Almost giggling, her eyes lit up like Christmas, Merry undid the handcuffs. Reyna scrambled at once to the floor, taking her position between the woman’s legs. Making full, deep swipes with her tongue, she began her work. Still in her open blouse and tiny skirt, she spent the remainder of the two hundred mile trip between Meredith Trace’s legs, her face firmly clamped between surprisingly well-muscled thighs coaxing orgasm after orgasm from her Mistress.

Remarkably, she continued to come herself, even without being touched. Meredith hadn’t lied when she’d said it would be paradise that much was for sure. And to think they hadn’t even gotten to Miami yet. Wickedly, Reyna wondered what could possibly top this even as she felt them cascading together towards yet another explosion.