Bosom Bondage Buddies

by Brandy Dewinter

  

Chapter 19 - As Weak As A Woman

  

Kelly laced me first into a new, tighter-than-ever black satin corset, sized to maintain the maximum possible tension at my latest, lowest weight. She decided the tall boots and short skirt would work better with an accent in between of creamy thigh so she removed the garters and I went bare legged. The strings on the black leather dress were pulled as tightly as the new corset would permit, then Kelly carefully laced up the thigh-high boots to make sure there was an even, comfortable tension all along the length from heel to hip. I had already freshened my makeup and had been wearing the wig all day so all that was left was to pull on tight leather gloves specially chosen to allow room for my shining red nails. I was just putting the last items in my purse when I heard a powerful car pull into the drive.

Dart Tanyon drove a gleaming black Porsche 944 which crouched on the drive like it was ready to pounce on Kelly's Camaro and ravish it. He climbed out of his side of the car to head to the door with a powerful swagger that seemed somehow to suggest the same desire to ravish something soft and feminine. I had really only met him once, that first night, and a lot of things had happened to me in the intervening month. Now I had a standard to compare him to from lots of other stud patrol members who had hit on me, and certainly from Rocky. Considered in the light of that comparison, Dart was still a massively handsome man, confident and comfortable in his power, but his aggressive stride triggered a memory of my concern for Billie Jo when she graduated from ice maiden to huntress. She no longer attracted the blatant studs, who preyed on those who would be grateful, instead she now attracted the confident men who could border into arrogance. As Dart approached the door I began to wonder what side of the border would describe him.

His smile as Kelly invited him in was warm and friendly, though, and the way his eyes lit when he saw me in my shiny black outfit showed all the attention a girl could want. I grabbed the jacket that went with the dress and he gallantly helped me into it, then escorted me to his car. He helped me fall into the low-slung seats of the Porsche, then watched as I swung my boots in.

"Damn, woman, you look good in that car. Maybe I should just keep you there all night."

"Well, Dart," I laughed, "you're in charge of this evening's entertainment, but I had expected a little more than drive-through burgers."

"You got that right," he asserted, "on both counts."

Dart drove aggressively, taking full advantage of the power and performance of the Porsche. When he had to slow behind someone, his fingers drummed impatiently on the wheel until he could slip out around the slower car. His skill and control were undeniable though. In no time we were on the freeway and heading toward town.

"Where are we going?" I asked casually.

"You'll see," was all he would say about it. He asked about the vacation I had been on and nodded approvingly when I said that Kelly had been my companion.

"What about your vacation?" I asked. "Kelly told me a few weeks ago that you were going out of town for a while."

"That was business," he said. He made no further comment on his business, so I assumed it had either gone poorly or was proprietary. We sped downtown, stopping finally at a nightclub in a little harder part of town than Kelly and I preferred. He moved to my side of the car in a few quick strides and pulled the door open, offering me a massive hand. I swung my boots out in a reverse of the entry procedure and he pulled me to my feet with an easy motion.

The hostess in the nightclub greeted him with a big smile when we entered, "Hello, Mr. Tanyon, we haven't seen you for a while."

"Been out of town," he grunted. "Candy, I'd like you to meet Brandy. Say, you two could do a duet act."

I smiled at the stacked blonde hostess, wondering if she thought that hair color looked natural. Careful, kitty, I thought to myself, your claws are showing. The club was relatively dark inside, the music was too loud for comfortable conversation and I realized I would have trouble sustaining Brandy's musical voice if I had to shout in there for long. It seemed we wouldn't be there long, though, based on how quickly Dart escorted me to a table and signaled a waitress for drinks. She was about the first woman I had seen with heels as tall as those on my boots. The rest of her outfit looked a little like mine, or at least like what I wore under my outer clothes of dress and jacket. She had on a black bustier and minimum g-string plus a big smile, not much else. I shouted my white wine order, Dart told her something I couldn't hear, then he leaned to my ear.

"I've got to circulate for a few minutes, Baby, wait for me."

Baby? That was the first time anyone had called me that, and I began to see why women didn't like it. This hard-charging Dart Tanyon was not much like his near namesake in the Dumas novel and I began to be increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. Dart circulated through the crowd, slapping backs, shaking hands as he was introduced to additional people, disappearing into the gloom while I sipped at my too-sweet wine and waited for him to return. Instead of Dart, a man I didn't know appeared and sat at my table without invitation.

"So, Gorgeous, what's a dish like you doing all alone."

"My friend just stepped away for a minute, he'll be right back."

"A minute, huh, we could get a lot done in a minute."

"I'm sure that is a long time for you, but I prefer a more leisurely pace."

His smile turned into something less pleasant and he reached for my wrist. I pulled it back away from his hand just as Dart appeared at the table.

"What's going on, Slider?" Dart asked the man at the table.

"Nothing," Slider replied, his face going so pale I could see the difference even in the dark club.

He stood up and vanished into the gloom. Then Dart was offering me his hand with a gentlemanly style. I took it and stood up, glad to be leaving that place. He took me back to the Porsche as though nothing unusual had happened and we were soon roaring off into the night, but by this time I was really wondering about Dart. It seemed as though every gesture, every motion toward me would be as refined and polite as a woman could ask for, but then he would do something that seemed out of place without apparent recognition of the conflict. Like calling me "Baby", or leaving me alone in a rough nightclub while he attended to some unclear business.

However, our next stop was a more appropriate restaurant and we were seated within minutes of our arrival. His eyes glinted in appreciation when I removed my leather gloves to display my long, graceful nails. He tried to get me to eat a full meal, but I stayed with the salad I had become used to, except for the special occasion of the cruise. It filled me up anyway within the new black corset. Things got better in the course of the meal. The wine he selected was excellent, light and crisp. The service was silent but instantaneous whenever any need appeared. The conversation became pleasant and cheery as he drew from me a description of the cruise, laughing when I described the grace of the humpbacks and showing appreciation when I described the terrible teeth of the killer whales. This was the Dart I remembered from my first night in public as Brandy and I wondered which one was the true man.

We finished our meal and Dart asked if I wanted to go back to his place for a nightcap but I refused gently as I pulled on my gloves, pleading that I was tired from the trip and still not over jet lag. He nodded, but instead of heading directly home he took me up to a ridge overlooking the lights of the city, then pulled the Porsche off onto the shoulder and set the brake.

"Come look at something," he said as he got out of the car. He moved around to my side with his usual speed and had my door open in a second. I swung my boots out of the car and let him help me up, but for some undefined reason I took my purse with me, leaving nothing in the car. He took my arm and we walked to the edge of the overlook where there was a grassy area and a bench to sit on. The view of the city was especially clear and I looked to pick out familiar landmarks.

"What did you want me to see?" I asked.

Suddenly he grabbed my arms and pinned them behind me. I heard the click of handcuffs and my arms were quickly bound. My struggles were futile as his easy strength exceeded mine by more than mine exceeded most women.

"This is what I want you to see, bitch," he growled as he drew his cock from his pants. "I know you want it. No one who looks like you can deny you love cock. Now, I've invested two meals in you and I'm not going to just take you home with a wave and an I've-got-a-headache excuse. Give me a good blowjob and we'll call it even."

"You bastard," I cried, surprised to hear it come out in Brandy's voice.

"Maybe, but I've got the strength to do what I want, and that's the number one rule in the world."

He sat down on the bench and forced me to my knees between his legs, my arms still bound behind me.

"Come on, bitch, you said you were tired. Do it and we can go home. But bite me and I'll throw you right off the fucking ledge."

He looked down expectantly, sure of his power and of my weakness. I licked my lips and tried to take some consolation in the size of his cock, which was smaller than Rocky's that I had successfully sucked. I opened my mouth to take the tip in, not bothering with the loving attention I had used on Rocky and began to stroke slowly, trying again to prepare my throat for this intruder.

"Hurry up, faster, and I know you can go deeper than that."

He grabbed my head and began to fuck my face, pulling me harder and harder into his crotch. I struggled back, gagging on his thick tool. Then disaster! My wig came off in his hands.

"What's this?" he said in surprise as he looked at my short hair, dropping the wig as though it were an animal. I had pulled my head back when the wig let go and I was rocked back on the heels of my boots.

"You're a fucking guy!" he shouted.

"Yes," I admitted in Ran's voice. It sounded strange to me since I had not used it in so long.

"You're a damn pervert," he continued.

"Maybe," I admitted, "but you couldn't tell I wasn't a woman, and you sure wanted me. What does that make you?"

I obviously shouldn't have taunted him, though at that point I'm not sure if anything I could have said or done would have made a difference.

"It makes me stronger than you, and if you want to be a woman, I'll make you into one."

Now I was truly frightened, wondering if a knife would end my manhood, but he pulled me up onto my feet and then pushed me face down over the bench, my bound arms useless to cushion the impact. He flipped up the brief hem of my dress and pulled the thong strap out of the crack in my ass. I felt the head of his cock at the entrance to my tight asshole and tightened up in reflex, which didn't help a bit as he rammed into me. For a moment I wondered if castration with a sharp knife would have been better than having my body ripped apart by his blunt, savage attack. A white-hot steel poker couldn't have been any more painful, nor any harder than the massive intruder that was violating me. My own saliva was the only lubrication and I knew that it must have hurt the sensitive skin of his cock to penetrate me with so much abrasive friction. This was rape, ugly and violent, and not a thing of passion at all. He stroked into me several times and then stiffened. I don't think he enjoyed it much, but I must have had him close enough from my cock sucking that the tight pressure of my anal ring put him over the top. He pulled up his zipper, then took the handcuff key from his pocket and threw it on the ground.

"You tell anybody about this and I'll kill you," he growled. Then he was gone as he strode quickly to the car and drove away in a scattershot of gravel.

I lay still over the bench, waiting for the blinding pain to subside. In a few minutes I tried to stand, awkward with my arms locked behind me. Eventually I was able to shift my weight and get to my feet, tottering on my towering heels. My first impulse was to straighten my skirt, which was sort of incongruous in the circumstances. I looked around for the handcuff key and found it where he had thrown it, gleaming softly in the moonlight. I couldn't reach down for it with my hands bound behind my back and finally had no choice but to kneel down, then pivot to sit down and reach around for it. My probing fingers, insulated by the gloves and clumsy with the long nails finally found it, and managed to work one of the cuffs loose, then I removed the other and began to try and put myself back together. Reaching under my dress, I pulled the strap of my thong back up, getting a fluid on my gloves that I could see was light colored even in the moonlight. I supposed that was good since it could have been blood from more serious damage. Next, I retrieved my purse and looked in the mirror of my compact. Actually, he hadn't hit me anywhere that would show and my stiff corset had protected my ribs from the edges of the bench. My beautiful wig lay where he had thrown it and I almost cried when I saw it hadn't been hurt. I suppose I would have cried for sure if he had destroyed it. It seemed as though I was perched on a razor edge of control, where anything good or bad could set off a flood of tears.

I gingerly sat on the bench, wincing at the throbbing pain from my rectum, and tried to decide what to do. My boots were definitely not made for walking a long way and I would probably get arrested if I just walked in on someone looking like I did. I looked again at my face in the mirror, then shook the wig out to remove any small bits of grass or whatever. In a minute, I had it on and was trying in the dim light and small mirror to assure it was properly placed. When it was as good as I could do, I walked up to the road and tried to decide which way to go. There was a streetlight about a half a mile down on the right and that was as good a choice as any. I started to walk that way, at first holding my butt tight instead of letting my hips swing normally for the heels I was wearing. As I had learned before, that wouldn't work so I loosened up and got back into my swaying style. Actually, the exercise helped to reduce the pain from my rear and soon the pain in my feet from trying to walk too fast and too far on too rough of a road for my towering stiletto-heeled boots seemed like a bigger problem.

Under the streetlight I looked again at my appearance in the mirror and touched up the damage that had been done, mostly lipstick and a little work on blending smudges. My boots had protected my knees and for a wonder they hadn't been scuffed too badly. My dress had only been against the bench which hadn't done any real damage either. I was very thankful I had worn leather that night and not some of the silks or lace of my other outfits. I didn't feel very pretty right then, but I looked good, not my best, but pretty good and I decided I could pass in public so I began to look for a phone. A cluster of lights glowed from over the next rise and I resolutely set out for them, wondering if I should try to flag down a car on this deserted road if one happened to pass. The choice was not offered me and so I walked on until I reached the lights to see a convenience store. In another few minutes I was at the pay phone, fumbling for change in my purse and then into the slot. I almost cried with relief when I heard Kelly's voice on the phone. In a few minutes I had given her enough directions and she was on her way.

Until she arrived I passed the time in the convenience store, ordering a coke and telling the matronly woman running it that my date had gotten fresh and I had decided to walk home. She asked if that had been the "black racing car" that had roared by and I told her probably so. Her look told me I had asked for it, considering how I was dressed, but my shattered expression showed I had suffered enough to invoke a balancing sympathy reflex and she said nothing. I asked her to watch for my sister-in-law and went to the rest room to clean up a little more. Even though there were few outward signs, I felt as though I should look dirty, soiled, and I felt a need to keep checking my appearance every time I found a better light or bigger mirror. I could polish out the damage to the knees of the boots and Dart's semen had quit dribbling from my tortured anus so there really wasn't much to do except brush out my hair a little. I would really need to start over on my makeup to set it right and there wasn't any need for that right now. A distant part of me wondered that my reactions had all been so stereotypically feminine. I was more concerned with my appearance than getting back at that bastard, and I was already thinking of the next time I would put on makeup. I had been pure Brandy for long enough to make that my natural persona and my weakness next to the powerful Dart Tanyon had made me soft in my own self image. It would take some time to transition back to Ran.

Kelly arrived and I went to meet her. She quickly picked up on the shocked look on my face and helped me into the car without speaking, though she winced when I winced as I sat down. As we drove home I poured out my story in gulps, my throat choking up on me at times. Her anger grew as my story unfolded, but whenever she looked at me her face softened into near-tears of her own. When we finally reached our home, Kelly helped me into the house and out of my clothes and I laid down to rest.

  

  

  

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