linxy - part VIII
Once the tub is full, bubbly from a short squirt
of peach scented shampoo, I unshackle her and bring her into the bathroom. I
lock the door behind us and sit on the floor in front of it. She stretches for
a few minutes and walks around in the tiny space before turning to look at me.
"Don’t think about getting in there with
the nightie on, sweets. It’s the only one you get. Besides, I want to watch
you strip. I need some sort of entertainment." The bruise on her neck and
ankle are getting darker, turning a yellowish purple, and there are red marks
on her wrists from the leather restraints. She slips the nightgown over her
head and turns her back to me, stepping into the water.
"Oh," she groans out, giving me goosebumps.
"It’s perfect."
I smile at her. "I draw a good bath."
She shoots me an angry look, seemingly upset that
I’ve invaded her personal nurturing time. It doesn’t matter. I won’t
be speaking again for a few minutes. I’m absolutely riveted to her skin,
the curve of her shoulder as she soaps up her arms and chest. When she shampoos
her hair I can see a dark mole, beauty mark, on the back of her long, creamy
neck. She makes noises as she cleans herself. Pleasurable noises that make me
breathe heavy, my cheeks hot. She moans and stretches, closes her eyes and sighs…hisses
her breath out from between her teeth. Her head disappears beneath the water
for a minute and she reappears, glossy wet, her hair slicked back, her eyes
sparkling. She cracks her neck to one side. I cough and it startles her. I’m
not going to be able to be patient and chaste much longer, and frankly I don’t
like how she can see right through me.
"Would you really snap my neck?" She
asks, her hands wrapped around her knees. I stand up and get her a couple of
white towels.
"Why? You planning on attacking me again?"
She shakes her head. "Then don’t worry about it."
"Have you killed girls before?" She asks
casually, pulling herself from the water. The muscles in her arms flex and bulge
slightly. She has a hidden stash of strength.
"No."
"That man. That man who’s buying me?
Is he going to kill me?"
I shake my head. "No. I’ve worked with
him before. He’s a buddy of mine. He treats his girls…very…"
I think about it and stop myself from lying. "He doesn’t kill them."
She shivers, from cold I think. "Should I
be scared?"
I nod. "Sure. He’s got odder tastes than
I. I just like to play rough. He likes to live rough. But he won’t kill
you. That’s all you need to know. That’s all I can tell you actually."
"You wouldn’t lie to me would you?"
"Nah. Why should I?"
"Thanks, Linx." She says quietly.
"Alright, you’re all clean, you can quit
whining about it." My dick, as we all
know, has a mind of its own, and it jumps up unexpectedly at the sight of her
standing there, shivering in a towel. I dry her off and give her one to wrap
her hair in. "Turn around." I say quickly, so perhaps she won’t
notice my excitement. She opens her eyes wide and holds her hands behind her
back. A drop of water runs down her spine as I buckle her hands together. At
the touch of the leather, she drops her head in defeat. "What’s that
for?" I laugh. Then leaning in closer to her ear, "Did you think I
was going to let you go?" She shrugs and looks over her shoulder at me.
Our lips are less than an inch apart
"Apparently not," she says, turning back
to face me, still hanging her head.
"You thought calling me by name…smiling and flashing your tits at
me was going to do it? I gotta tell you Olivia, I’ve seen a lot better
bargaining techniques." I stare at her, she
stares at the floor. "You haven’t even tried the fun ones." None
of my jokes seem to go over with her. I can see the shadowy valley between her
breasts, the pale part of her hair, her collarbone poking up at her shoulder.
Finally, I shake my head clear. "You were right," I say. "I want
more than just to watch." Her muscles tense and she looks up at me. "I’m
a man, after all, and you’re a naked girl. You’re not going anywhere,
and I’ve got nothing to do." She swallows and I watch the muscles
of her throat draw the air down. I put a finger under the hem of her towel,
where the tail is tucked in to keep it in place. She takes a step backwards
and my hooked finger pulls the towel away. Her cuffs leave no opportunity to
hide herself, but she tucks her chin to her neck anyway. She’s shivering.
"What would you do to stop me?" I ask.
"Nothing I guess. There’s nothing I could
do."
"Right," I say, wrapping the towel tightly
around her again. "Think about that the next time you feel like calling
me names." She looks up and blinks. "I don’t think you need your
nightgown, not for the rest of the day. The buyer is coming over to see you
later."
It takes a lot to show these girls what a stand up guy I am, and they don’t always get the point. They don’t always understand what I COULD be doing. They understand it later, when they’re treated even worse.