Executive Flesh

Act III

Steven stands in the silent room for what feels like an eternity. It could be minutes or it could be hours. He has by now lost all sense of time.

He holds his breath and strains his ears in hopes of hearing.... something. After the long march down he feels as if he's been locked away in a tomb. But there is nothing. Not the echo of distant footsteps or the sound of voices in the hallways. Just the sound of his breathing over the gag and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

And then.... something changed. Steven slowly realized that he was not alone in the room. He wasn't sure how, but he knew that he was being watched. He could feel eyes on him almost like a physical touch. He imagined that if he just listened closely enough, if he could just calm his beating heart, he could hear another person's breathing.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Lady sat quietly in the large dungeon watching her new toy, waiting. And then, there it was. The signal she had been waiting for. The quickened breathing. The increased tension in his posture. All signs that he finally knew that he wasn't alone after all. Now it was time to begin.

She carefully got to her feat, hearing the soft jingle of handcuffs at her belt, and slowly began crossing the room. She loved the way the boy's head jerked at the sound of metal chiming against metal. The way he turned his face this way and that trying to locate her by sound was simply delicious.

She smiled as she got closer. This boy was exactly what she had ordered. He was tall with dark hair and fine, almost feminine features. He had a naturally pale complexion accentuated by long hours under fluorescent office lights. He was probably as much a slave to that job as he would soon become to his new owner on Nakrad. Only his new owners would extract what they wanted of him using much more effective tools than money or profit sharing or vacation time.

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Steven's breathing quickened. He could hear the soft sound of them moving closer ... whoever they were. His heart was thundering in his ears and threatening to hammer it's way out of his chest. They were circling him, eyeing him from every angle like a predatory animal. And although he could not flee, he instinctively knew that they were stalking him. And then, suddenly, they were there, standing right in front of him. He could feel warm breath on his face, the warmth of another body, and those eyes measuring and appraising him.

There was a soft tapping on the floor, the sound of something being dropped and then cool air against his skin. Then a second tapping, and more air to tease his flesh. And he realized the sound was that of buttons falling to the floor as they were cut from his shirt. Once again, time stretched and distorted in Steven's mind, and he was lost in the sound of buttons dropping to the floor as more and more of his skin was exposed until only the very top button was left.

A moment later, Steven felt hands tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his waste-band and pushing it open to expose his naked chest. He shivered as hands lightly traced over his naked skin, teasing with long nails. "Not bad boy. You stay in pretty good shape for an office rat." A female voice said from the darkness. Then the fingers, which had been seductively teasing his flesh a moment before, seized his nipples, pinching, pulling, twisting until Steven was whimpering behind the gag. And then, just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Long seconds passed as Steven sucked breath through his nose. He longed to pull his arms in close to his body, to curl into a ball and protect his throbbing chest. "Awww. Poor baby. So weak." the voice came again. "Let's see what else you've got for me to play with..." Then her hands were tugging at his belt, unfastening it with quickness that bespoke long practice. Then she was opening his pants and easing them down over his hips, dropping them in an awkward heap around his spread ankles.

Steven tenses as he hears her start circling him again, inspecting his body from every angle. He can't escape the feeling that he is being weighed and judged. What would happen if she somehow found him wanting? And what if he passed her inspection? Which fate would be worse?

And then her hands are on him again, rubbing and squeezing his ass, sliding around his waist and up over his naked chest again then down toward his spread thighs and vulnerable cock, feeling him becoming erect under the thin fabric of his underwear. "You like that, boy? Not for long...." Then her hands slide down, roughly gripping his balls, pulling downward and squeezing until another pained whimper finds it's way from behind the gag.

And then she is gone again, leaving Steven trembling and alone. He feels his knees shaking and for the first time feels grateful for the cuffs holding his arms aloft. Without them, he would no doubt be a crumpled mess on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Lady stood back now, watching the boy's shivering body with a small smile tugging at her lips. There was a lovely sheen of sweat forming on his skin now. He was far more sensitive than she had imagined he would be. And much more afraid. It would be a pleasure indeed to break him to her will. "Move him to the chair." she instructed the men standing guard at either side of the door.

Leaving them to their task, the Lady then moved off to the side of the room, carefully examining trays of clamps and weights, spreader bars and floggers, gags and plugs until she had formed a plan in her mind. She then selected the toys that she would need.

As she turned back to the room, she found that the men had already stripped her new pet of his pants and ruined shirt and were well on their way to forcing him across the room and into a waiting chair.

These men had been carefully selected for their employment records, experience and discretion. They would do her bidding and they would not talk about what went on here once they left. Large sums of money and the knowledge of what would happen if they ever did ensured that.

As the Lady returned to her work, she paused for a moment to pick up the boy's discarded tie from the dungeon floor. She had other uses for such pretty lengths of silk. She then watches closely as the boy is secured in the chair, his wrists handcuffed behind his back, his legs and thighs pushed apart and securely tied to the legs and seat of the chair using strong leather straps, and a final band of leather pulled across his upper chest. He was now completely helpless and at her disposal. Only one final touch remained.

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Steven strained against his bonds, trying to force his spread knees back together, to pull his ankles away from the chair, to free his manacled wrists, but to no avail. The chair was sturdy and in good repair as were the leather bands holding him in place. He felt so helpless and exposed there in only his underwear, his knees forced wide apart over the sides of the chair. And then she was there, sliding her hands over his shoulders and down his chest from behind. Teasing his nipples with long fingernails, her hair falling down to brush against his cheek. "Don't worry pet," she whispered into his ear, "I won't hurt you too much.... This time." Then she stood and Steven felt the soft brush of silk over his nose and cheeks. It was suddenly warm and difficult to breathe. He felt something pulling tight about his neck and he fought to swallow. He shook his head, trying desperately to free himself from this new torture. Little did he know this was only just the beginning.