Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Blue Collar Bondage: Part 1: Make Me

Using the key Duke had given me, I unlocked the door to his trailer and stepped into the darkness. The light of the afternoon sun filtered slightly through the blinds in the living room windows, but it did me no good with the lenses of my glasses still tinted from the brightness outside. I blinked, half blind, as I pushed the door to behind me, waiting for the tint to fade. I sat my bags down near the door, not sure what to do with them. Duke was still at work, so I couldn't really ask him. Perhaps I should have waited to come over until after he'd gotten off. I suggested as much, but he was insistent that I come over as soon as I got into town.

I wandered into the living room, sitting down on worn, chocolate colored couch that faced a modest entertainment center against the wall as my eyes finally adjusted to the light. I laughed when I could see what the room looked like. In addition to the brown couch I sat on, a maroon recliner sat to the left of it next to the window. The Minion doll I'd bought him for Christmas sat on the arm of the recliner, holding up its pink feather duster like a torch. Duke had warned me about the decor, so I wasn't exactly surprised when I looked down to see the floor was a mosaic of tiny movie posters covered in some type of resin. The coffee table was a touch frightening. One of Duke's handmade
pieces, a large circular saw blade, also coated in resin, made up the table top. It was rather beautiful once you got over the fact that it was a saw blade. The end table was one of his, too. The Gates of Midian from Nightbreed had been burned into the wood with a soldering iron.

I stood up to explore the rest of the house. My steps landed hollowly against the floor, that distinctly trailer sound of the crawlspace under the house. As far as I could tell, all of the floors were tile, although the poster mosaic was consigned to the living room. I plucked up a discarded shirt from the floor and went in search of the hamper. Shaking out the shirt, Papa Smurf looked back at me with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face next to giant white text that read "I love it when you call me Big Papa."

How appropriate.

On the way to the bathroom, I passed a large terrarium containing an emperor scorpion. I stared at it for some time, skittering across some wooden limbs. I shivered, thankful, at least, that it wasn't a spider. Above the terrarium was a display case of various species of beetles mounted on a white board with pins. There were other cases, and one with spiders, but the spiders were encased in blocks of clear plastic, possibly the same resin used on the table and floor. The opposite wall held a painstakingly crafted mural of Pinhead from Hellraiser.

I sighed softly. If I didn't know the man, I'd have been fairly creeped out by the whole motif.

I finally found the door to the bathroom and flipped on the light.

And sighed again.

The walls of the bathroom had been done in the same poster mosaic as the living room floor, except this one mostly comprised of horror movie promotions. I remembered him mentioning once that he had gone to a closing sale for Blockbuster and taken all their posters. I hadn't thought they'd all be the size of DVD covers though. The shower curtain was a brilliant white, splattered with bright crimson to look like blood. A white fuzzy rug lay just outside the tub.

Absentmindedly discarding the shirt in the wicker hamper beside the counter, I ran a bit of water over my hand. I flicked water at the rug and watched as the wet spots turned blood red.

Of course, he would have that particular item.

"You like it?"

I jumped, turning around to find Duke watching me from the doorway with a lopsided grin. He'd taken off his hat, but I could still see the indentation of it in his chestnut hair. He swept it back with a large hand, revealing a touch of silver at his temples.

"I...I'm..." I stammered, not sure how to respond without offending or lying.

"I'm a girl." I finally said.

He gave me one of those smug man chuckles, soft and deep. "You'll get used to it, I imagine. You'll find the other bathroom less offensive."

I squeaked. "I didn't say it was offensive. I just...It's just really fuckin' weird."

He grinned again, his mustache tilting up on one side. "I've never been much on normal. But then, neither are you."

He pinned me with those lovely hazel eyes, swimming with a combination of browns, greens, and grays. I took an unconscious step toward him, and he laughed again.

"Look, baby, why don't you go back to the living room and watch a bit of tv?" he said, starting to unbutton his tan work shirt. "I did a bit of bed bug genocide today and I need to get this blood off me. And, as much as I'd love you to join me, I'm gross."

He stood away from the door so I could step out of the room and he could walk in. I eyeballed his ass, beautifully displayed in the forest green Dickies of his uniform. I'd always been a sucker for a good pair of work pants. I couldn't give a rat's ass about suits, but damn.

Wordlessly, I held out my hand.

He looked at it. "What?"

"Shirt." I said. "And pants," this time with a bit of a grin of my own.

"My my, a bit bossy today ain't we?" He handed over the shirt and started unbuckling his belt. I watched with morbid fascination as he slid it free, relishing the sound of the leather sliding across the rough fabric of the Dickies. He doubled it over in his fist before laying it on the bathroom counter. "I think I'll keep that one," he said, chuckling again. Slipping off the pants, he folded them over and handed them off to me.

"There's a basket in the laundry room for my uniforms. Just go toss it in there."

I moved to obey, lingering long enough to watch him slide the Superman boxers off and turn on the shower.

The basket was easy enough to find, piled high with his uniforms from earlier in the week. I cleaned out the pockets before tossing them down with the others, managing to rescue about sixty-three cents in assorted change, his wallet, and a stray business card that read "Duke Hampton: Pest Assassin" under the logo of the pest control company he worked for. Giggling a bit to myself, I laid them in the shallow bucket that sat atop the dryer.

When I got back to the living room, I realized my toy bag had been relocated to God knew where. How did the sneaky bastard manage to both get in the house and move my stuff without me hearing a damn thing? I flopped onto the couch, my skirts fanning out around me, and piddled on my phone in lieu of fishing for something on Netflix. Duke didn't have cable, so that was my only option for TV, but by the time I found something, he'd be done anyway.

I looked up several minutes later as he padded back into the room wearing nothing but a pair of well-worn jeans. They didn't have any holes, but the denim looked butter-soft and molded to his powerful thighs in a most distracting way. His wet hair was slicked back, belying its few inches of length. A pleasant smile painted his face as he flipped on a lamp, casting the room in a golden hue and throwing the black tattoos on his torso into stark relief against his skin. A grim reaper decorated his left pec, a tribal style wolf on the right, and a large outline of a Gothic cross  began in the middle of his chest and ran the expanse of his flat belly, ending at a point at his navel. I wanted to lay my cheek against that belly and revel in his skin against mine.

Coming up behind me, he plucked the phone out of my hand and deposited it on the top of a high bookshelf out of my meager reach.

"Hey!"

"What, darlin? You ain't gonna need that tonight." He turned back to me with that slow grin. "Now, I do believe you, pretty little rabbit, are wearing too many clothes. Off. Now."

I sat up slightly and smirked. "Make me."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Well, now," he drawled, walking up behind me again and running his fingers through my hair, the cheater, before wrapping the considerable length around his fist and pulling it tight. "I guess we're gonna start tonight off with a bang."

"Upsy Daisy" he sang as he hauled me easily to my feet by my hair. I stumbled a bit as he steered me around the couch and back down the hallway towards the door to his bedroom. Or doors, I should say, one, leading into a little hallway with a door to the left, and the final door spilling into his surprisingly spacious room, complete with a king sized waterbed and rainbow trout body pillow that wasn't much shorter than me. He casually flung me into the room, releasing me so that he could lock the door.

I took the opportunity to dive bomb over the top of the couch that rested at the foot of the bed, rolling off the cushions and hitting the floor with a solid thud.

Duke snorted. "You must really hate those clothes, rabbit." He loped toward me, but I was already pulling another clumsy leap back over the couch, landing on the bed with a slap and a rocking of the water-filled mattress. Another slap and slosh and he was on top of me. I squeaked as he landed.

"Rabbit, now you know, running makes it worse."

"Now that," I said, chest heaving with the efforts of my acrobatics, "is a matter of opinion."

"We'll see." He hooked both hands into the collar of my blouse and ripped the poor thing straight down the center. A few more yanks at the sleeves and the garment fell away from me in tatters.

"Be nice to the skirt!" I yelped before he thankfully only yanked it roughly off my hips.

"Fortunately for you, I like this skirt," he said with a sharp slap to my thigh. He tossed the gauzy white fabric into the corner. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he flicked it open with a soft click and cut away the ill-fitting black bra I'd put on that morning. The elastic in the band had left red lines on my skin. He rubbed at them with his fingers, almost as if he might make the little indentations go away with enough effort. He frowned at them but slid back down to examine the lacy blue panties I wore.

"Oh, looky what we have here! A hole!" he slid a finger into the in the most auspicious place a hole could ever be in a pair of panties and ran slow circles around my clit.

I arched with a slight gasp. It was a delicious sensation, hard enough to feel good, soft enough that I wasn't scrambling away from it. He pulled the finger away to hook the hole and wrench the fabric up so it bit into the tender flesh. He hooked two fingers from his other hand into the hole and split the fabric, revealing more of my sex to his wandering hand. He plunged two fingers into me, teasing the inner walls and coaxing moisture to the surface.

"Mmm." He hummed with a smile, cutting away the rest of the panties with the pocket knife. "I was nice to the skirt. Probably won't be so nice to the kitty," he said, giving it a firm slap. "You gonna be a good girl now, hmm?"

I tossed the fish pillow at his head. It bounced off his face and landed on my belly with a soft thwump.

He tilted his head slightly. "I can work with that," he said, rolling off of me and rolling me off the edge of the bed. I hit the floor with another thump and a groan. His feet landed beside my face.

My hair suddenly became a leash again as he dragged me toward the doorway blocked by a black curtain.



Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

3 comments:

  1. You have a wonderful way of leaving me hanging and wanting more ;)

    Rebel xox

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My superhero name is The Cliffhanger. :D

      Delete