Memoirs Of A Sex Toy by Lizbeth Dusseau

Add To Cart

EXTRACT FOR
Memoirs Of A Sex Toy

(Lizbeth Dusseau)


Memoirs of a Sex Toy

Prologue

 

Maximus Darrow's house belonged in the woods amid the hardwood forest and the undergrowth of feral things, the babbling brook that crossed the property at an angle and the silent sounds of the earth shifting softly beneath the hiker's feet. Perched on a rise above the brook, the modern contemporary jutted over the terrain below like a floating ship. The wood, the concrete, the glass, all fragments that innocuously conformed to the contours of the landscape so that someone approaching on foot might find it difficult to see the home without careful scrutiny, at least until one was upon it and its understated magnificence suddenly struck the unsuspecting eye. Inside, its interiors glowed with warmth from candles lit for the cocktail hour. Guests milled about with drinks in hand, while the aromas of wine, garlic and fresh herbs infused the air, and cheerful laughter set a festive mood.

Caretaker Travis Givens stood on the sidelines of the gathering, the stocky woodsman rising on tiptoe in his effort to find the master of the house amongst the crowded company. When he finally spotted him speaking with the bartender, he carefully slipped between guests and moved his way, pulling his boss to an empty corner of the living room. Maximus Darrow cut a fine figure in a tuxedo even though he hated ostentatious clothes and all the formality that went with them. He was a robust and vigorous man, with a brilliant mind and an intense focus that could easily intimidate without intending to. Though his facial expression was often grim, tonight his smile was unforced and his mirth a pleasure to see. After all, this was a celebration.

"Is there a problem, Travis?"

"There's been a breach on the northwest perimeter. Someone on foot."

Maximus' eyebrows peaked with interest. "Someone we know?"

"Perhaps you should have a look? I know it's not a good time, sir..."

"Then let's not waste any, shall we? You have the intruder on video?"

"Yes, sir."

Maximus moved with haste, granting guests sincere smiles and stopping twice to shake a hand while on the way to his private office. Once the door closed behind the pair, the world around them went silent and the noise of the cocktail party became no more than a low murmur beyond the soundproofed room.

Maximus moved directly to the monitors in the wall unit where Travis brought up the tape recording of the intruder. The two watched with rapt attention.

"A female?" Maximus suspected as he watched the slight, black-clad shape move stealthily over the fence and into the woods where the video cam tracked her as far as the camera angle reached.

"Yes sir, a female, that's exactly my conclusion. I thought you should see for yourself," he added, code for "I wonder what female admirer is stalking you now?"

"How old is this image?"

"Seven, maybe eight minutes. I came as soon as she was spotted. She's out of sight at the moment, but I can probably track her down if you'd like."

Looking to his employer for an answer, Travis noted Maximus' expression with some curiosity. A mix of interest and, perhaps, was it awe? Amusement? Not exactly what Travis expected to see.

"We'll both track her down," Maximus turned abruptly with the announcement.

"But your party, sir?"

"They're doing just fine without me. I'm sure Talia has it all handled, I'm just window dressing. You can grab the Dobermans and join me. I'll be heading due north, I think. That is the path you recommend?"

"Yes, sir."

Maximus gave the man a nod, and immediately headed for the private door at the back of his office, taking the hidden staircase to the area beneath the house, the caretaker at his heels. Reaching the exterior door, he punched in the keycode and the door opened on its own. Then for several seconds, Maximus stood just outside the house and appraised the situation as if he were employing internal radar to scout his prey.

Travis, meanwhile, moved to the dog run and let the two Dobermans free. Jax and Pen instantly bounded out and were about to pounce upon their master until he immediately halted them with his hand.

"A little tracking today," he spoke to them directly, giving each a fond scratch to the ears. Then he turned to the caretaker, "We're heading north," he confirmed, then he moved away from the house and into the woods on the well-marked trail. It was unclear if the dogs or Maximus picked up the intruder's scent first, but just a quarter mile into the trees, the three suddenly veered off the path in tandem, as though their collective sixth sense had already ferreted out the intruder's location.

Minutes later, Maximus motioned the animals forward. "Go on and find her," he ripped off the order as if he were speaking to an excited child. Then he called after them, "Just be nice."

Travis moved to Maximus' side. "You recognize this woman?"

"Perhaps."

"And would I know her?"

"Likely not," he said, then he strode off again into the rough woods, unconcerned with the possible damage to his elegant tuxedo from the scruffy undergrowth or the way the forest floor muddied his shoes.

Not more than two hundred yards into the most savage terrain on his hundred acre property he found Jax and Pen fitfully circling their target.

"Back off," he motioned to the dogs, then stepped forward to confront the crouching form huddled in a thicket of pine needles and thorny brambles. He appeared in no hurry to get his business finished; in fact, the slight amusement Travis earlier noted when his boss first saw the image of the intruder on the video screen had returned to Maximus' face.

The crouching female was dressed entirely in black: knit stocking cap, turtleneck sweater and rugged pants-as if she knew the kind of terrain she'd confront once she crossed the fence. They might not have been able to determine her sex if they hadn't caught a glimpse of her face, but just one brief glance at her feminine features and that aspect of her identity became quite obvious.

Maximus took a moment to circle the female; and although she initially refused to look up, he seemed so calm and unruffled by the woman one would wonder if he actually knew her. If he did, however, he gave no clear indication of that fact.

He did say with a sarcastic twist: "You might have walked to the gate and announced your presence." Reaching down, he grabbed the stocking cap and pulled it free, allowing a cascade of brunette hair to fall free around the woman's shoulders. For one brief moment, she glanced up, then she immediately turned away when she caught Maximus' imperious stare, and remained huddled on the ground.

Maximus turned to the caretaker. "You brought rope?" The coiled rope thrown over his shoulder was obvious to them both. "Tie her hands behind her and we'll take her back to the house." Then he stepped back, while Travis moved in behind her and reached for her arms. Suddenly, the quaking female came back to life and her arms flung wide as she violently wrenched from the man's grasp. She jumped forward like a rabbit and started into the woods moving with surprising agility. Though they were taken off guard, the dogs moved swiftly and halted her progress, nipping at her ankles until she stumbled into a tree. Travis was on her again seconds later.

The mood of the two men had morphed from curious to grim, any amusement now gone. The caretaker wasted little effort in securing the female's arms behind her back, then he threw a rope over her head and drew it tight to her neck.

"You made a mistake coming here," he sounded off, his gravelly voice was filled with warning. "Better you come with me nice and easy or else I'll tie you to a tree and whip your sorry ass."

With Jax and Pen on either side of her, and Travis directly in front holding the end of the rope like a leash, she was steered through the woods and toward the house. Maximus had taken off first and continued at a steady clip a few yards in front. When the party finally came within sight of the house, he turned on his heel.

"String her up in the barn, I'll attend to her as soon as I have the time. And use plenty of rope, I don't want this one getting away." As if there was a chance that any intruder could slip Travis' grasp.

"Yes, sir, I'll take care of it."

Maximus nodded and was gone, while Travis continued with the female until they reached a large grey barn located just past the house. While keeping her hands tied behind her, he bound her with a long length of rope into a simple tie that started at her shoulders, threaded through her crotch, wound around her torso above and below her breasts, then continued further downward to her waist and hips. Once that was complete, he untied her hands from behind and retied them in front. Lifting them high, he secured them to a heavy hook that had been screwed into one of the barn's main support posts. The thick timbers were rough hewn and attached with iron bolts to the roof trestles in the open ceiling. Although he didn't bind her tight against the post, he anchored both her ankles and knees to the tall beam with short lengths of rope. She could move a bit, but she wouldn't be thrashing about.

"You have anything to say, better say it now," was the only comment from the unflappable caretaker-as if he'd been through the routine a hundred times. When the intruder didn't make a peep, he pulled a ballgag from a canvas bag and stuffed it into the brunette's mouth, right past her full pink lips. Then he tied the connecting leather straps at the back of her head so it was securely in place.

She groaned a bit, and there was a pained grimace on her pretty face-the first signs of discomfort-but these he ignored. Her chest heaved with every breath, voluptuous and erotic, but he ignored that too, even though the activity of binding a beautiful woman stirred a feral warmth inside his crotch.

If she showed any sign of being terrified by the activities of the last ten minutes, Travis didn't see it in her face. There was a lot he could conclude from her passive behavior, but he ignored any suppositions, preferring to let the event run its course, as they normally did. He'd know what he needed to know soon enough.

"You'll be all right here, girl, long as you don't do something stupid. Someone will be here for you later."

She seemed to be in no obvious distress, and having done as his employer desired his job was complete. He gave the bondage one last inspection, then nodding to the captive female, he left her hanging immobilized in her prison of rope.

 

***

An hour after the dogs had located the intruder on the perimeter of the property, Maximus arrived at the barn with three of his friends from the party-a hand-picked three for whom the activities in the barn would be as natural as milking cows. Travis had left one light burning in the main area, a single bulb hanging almost directly over the post where the tethered female hung. A soft glow beamed down on her figure, while the rest of the barn was bathed in shadows. One of the horses snorted at the far end of the building where the animals were stabled, but otherwise the space was eerily quiet. Four men in tuxedoes, a dusty barn and a bound female created a remarkable picture of contrasts.

On sighting the female, Raul Valdez quickly strode forward. "Ah! Nabbed a pretty one this time!" he said as he inspected the female with the big round eyes and the creamy, unblemished skin. His thick fingers worked their way down the ropes as he gently ran his hand from one to the next. The light vibration was enough to make the woman quiver, even though it was apparent that she was attempting to tough out the scene with as little reaction as possible. Despite her attempts to put up a stoic front, her body seemed to ooze with tension and desire; her eyes flashed, her nostrils flared, and every man in the barn could sense the passion in her increasing with every breath she drew.

"You don't suppose we could make a deal on this one?" Raul remarked, as he gently caressed the captive's face with the backside of his fingers.

Pushing forty, the Mexican was a handsome man, though the severity of his manner would give any woman reason to fear. His face was cleanly shaved. His eyes dark and smoldering. And his jet black hair was combed straight back into a ponytail. Smirking from one side of his mouth, he looked as lecherous as his heart would prove to be.

The other two guests had approached the hanging girl as well. The tall redheaded Fritz seemed as comfortable with the scene as Raul was, while Trent, an ex-Marine with a buzz cut and a stiff demeanor, stood back warily appraising the scene and not yet ready to comment.

Standing by the barn door observing, Maximus smiled thinly, and responded to Raul's question. "I'm sure we could make a deal-should I decide to dispose of her."

The comment was enough to jar the woman with a quaking shiver. Just an hour before, Maximus had been thrashing through his woods in search of the intruder, enough to assume that his tux would be dirty if not entirely ruined by the hike. And yet, there was not a wrinkle in his appearance. He looked as starched and handsome as when he first dressed that night. While his guests were eagerly enjoying his pretty prisoner, he displayed an air of almost casual indifference. At last, he walked forward with his eyes riveted on the brunette, and stopped directly in front of her. He looked to be deep in thought, carefully considering how to handle the intruder.

"You know, you can't leave her hanging here all night, Max," Fritz finally chimed in.

"But it would be so satisfying if I could," his host answered with a sigh. "Maybe you'd like to cut away her clothes, see what charms she's hiding underneath."

"And leave the ropes? Hum? That should be a bit of fun," Fritz replied. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a switch blade, his big smile beaming now. "I knew I carried this around for a reason," he joked. The blade flashed even in the dingy light, and made the captive's eyes grow wider than they already were. "No need to be afraid," he told her. "I'll be very gentle." Clearly he was mocking her with his cocky bravado, but he was, in fact, quite gentle as he carefully inserted the tip of the switchblade into her clothes and pulled back with a tug, leaving gaping holes in the black fabric of her turtle neck and pants.

Once the woman's clothes were nearly in shreds, Raul stepped in to pull the loose material from between the binding ropes. Some came off in strips, others in small bits, all discarded on the barn floor. As the two men worked, Maximus and the Marine watched the captive's skin come into view, noting how the creamy white contrasted starkly with the black of her ruined clothes. And though she was not a nubile twenty-year old, the unveiling exposed a perfectly proportioned woman in her late thirties, with a trim waist, firm breasts and muscled thighs. She obviously kept herself in shape.

It was not surprising that she shivered-the barn wasn't cold, but it was hardly a cozy atmosphere for casual nudity. Whether it was from the chill in the air or the honest arousal, her nipples had drawn up tightly into hardened pebbles against the bed of her round and pinkish aureoles.

"Nice bitch," Raul was again the first to comment directly. He pinched each exposed nipple several times, enough to hurt, enough so the woman appeared to gasp from behind the gag. "Hurt, does it?" The question was obviously rhetorical, leaving Raul amused by her enforced silence. "Right, you can't talk, can you, pretty one?" His grey eyes gleamed with devilish glee and he continued a careful perusal of the captive's body.

While the entirety of her body appeared to be without blemish, it was difficult to see much of her crotch with so much rope hiding the view. Still, the impatient Raul was quick to lay a hand between her legs where he could feel the heat of her body throbbing on his fingers. Enthused by even the most subtle response from the woman, he tugged the rope aside so he could finger her slit and found her pussy surprisingly wet.

As Raul worked his fingers into her and manipulated her clitoris, her breath became short and labored. Three fingers were soon ramming into her cunt. When she closed her eyes-presumably to close out the sight of her tormentor-she earned a slap to her face. Raul was not pleased.

"Look at me, slut!" His glee had turned dark and forbidding, and when she didn't respond, he slapped her again. "Look at me!

The second slap stung enough so that her eyes shot open and for a moment a look of terror could be seen in her otherwise placid face. She breathed deep, in an apparent attempt to will her fear away. Whether her efforts were successful was hard to determine, though it would have taken one tough bitch not to feel some degree of alarm in her current situation.

Raul smirked and stepped away. "You're very good, you know?" He spoke with some admiration. I'm betting you're trainable." He turned again to Maximus. "Yes, I would like to have her if only for a night. She would make a fine toy."

"Perhaps so," Maximus answered. "But let's not sell tickets to her debauchery so soon. For now, we'll make an exhibition of her. See what we have here first." He turned toward the far end of the barn, calling out for Travis.

Within seconds, the caretaker emerged from the shadows on his way from the Video Center located on the other side of the barn, where his team of security guards conducted round the clock surveillance of the property. In his work boots, grubby jeans and flannel shirt, Travis may have looked like a humble groundskeeper for a quaint English estate, but behind the façade was a savvy techie who knew his way around the tech world he'd proven to navigate with ease. He'd been with Maximus for nearly fifteen years and shared all his favorite fascinations-including the darker realms of sex.