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Bondage Town by Reese Gabriel Maledom BDSM Erotica Ebook ordering Reese Gabriel is the author of many best-selling BDSM novels including these titles: Punishing Pamela, Sold! To the Highest Bidder, Obedience School, Yes, Master! and Blackmailed Into Bondage

Reyna despised her mother. Then again, she felt that way about most adults over nineteen. With the exception of T-Top, the guy she’d met at rehab. He’d named himself after the type of car he’d totaled the last time he was high on crystal-meth. She’d never gotten that heavy duty herself. Mostly it had been beer, a little whiskey and a couple of times with pot. She was a traditional kind of gal, she supposed. Like her old man, who was cool sometimes. Herself, she’d been a great drunk, the life of the party. As for Zeke, he would get this look in his eye, sort of red and cartoon freaky, veins popping out all over his neck, then he’d pass out. Pretty harmless in the scheme of things.

       Damn, this was a shit hole of a town!  Reyna surveyed the dusty street, the sorry ass storefronts: two quickie marts, a gas station, and an antiques’ store. She felt in her pocket for her stash—not drugs, thank you very much—but cash. The righteous stuff, as T-Top would say. Did this place even have a bus station?  Because if it did, she was outta here.

       Adios, Cynthia, and her messed up white picket fence, Beaver Cleaver ideas. Who was she kidding? From the little she’d heard, her mother’s name—Cynthia Marshall—was mud around these parts anyway.

       A pair of old men gawked at her from across the street. White shirts, hats, and tired old faces in the middle of July. Reyna adjusted her top, gave them a little of what they wanted as she passed by. What the hell?  This was a girl’s world, if you played your cards right.

       Girl power...whatever.

       But hey now, what was that she spied?  A bogie on the scope. Fixing her 20/10 baby blues on the group of teens hanging in front of a video arcade, she isolated the hottie. Dark hair, black t-shirt, tight jeans, and leaning against a brick wall. Sad to say, there were two bimbos with him, in short skirts, midriff tops and too much makeup. They were blondes, with that clueless, pop princess-wannabe thing going. One was tall and thin, the other shorter, curvier.

       Ignoring them both, she walked right up to Prince Charming. “I’m Reyna,” she told him. “Any place around here you could buy me some fries?”

       The girls’ mouths dropped open, but the boy just kind of stood there, hands dug in his pockets, looking cool, like somebody off a soap opera. After a few seconds he said, “Sure.”

       The loser twins went all ballistic and high pitched, but he just walked away from them, not even looking back. Reyna gave them an evil look, letting them know they’d been beat.

       “I’m Jason,” he said as he fell in step next to her on the sidewalk.

       A few minutes later, at a booth at the Quik Burger, she reached across to squeeze his arm. “Thank you for getting me off that freak show of a street.”

       He shrugged. “No sweat.”  After a sip of his soda, he said,  “You’re new here.”

       “Uh huh.” She sipped seductively from her own straw, showing him how a real woman did it. “So what do you all do for fun around here?”

       Jason popped a french fry in his delicious mouth. If those deep brown eyes didn’t get her, the lips would. Normally, she wasn’t into guys who looked this straight, but he had an edge about him she couldn’t put her finger on and she liked that.

       “We hang out mostly,” he replied noncommittally.

       Reyna slipped off one of her flip flops, ran the tips of her toes up his leg. “Wanna hang out with me, Jason?”

       “Maybe.”

       She smiled. “Can I have a french fry?”

       “You got a whole order of your own,” he observed coolly.

       “I want one of yours.”

       Taking one of the golden sticks, he put it between his teeth. “Come and get it.”

       Reyna leaned forward, pressing her bosom onto the tabletop in the process. She sucked rather than bit the fry, inhaling it all the way up to meet his mouth. Hungry lips and tongues wrapped round the saltiness, claiming each other’s depths. Midway through his kiss, she felt her nipples popping out.

       “Take me somewhere, Jason,” she begged throatily.

       He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

       The mustang was brand new, mint green, with a tan, convertible roof. As soon as he opened the door for her, she could smell the leather. Catlike, she crawled in.

       “Why don’t you put down the seat back?” he suggested as he cranked the ignition.

       It was a deliciously wicked suggestion, made all the more appealing as she settled herself down on the buttery smooth material. God, but his cock looked good, straining against the fabric of his jeans.

       When her seat was all the way reclined, he leaned across and grabbed the seatbelt. “Don’t forget to buckle.”

       The little click of the belt in the mechanism sent a shiver down her spine. She was confined now. Her breasts trembled as she exhaled. Lying down like this, next to an upright man made her feel very vulnerable. The thought was getting her wet beneath her shorts. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes.

       “Kiss me, baby,” she urged, her voice a racy whisper.

       A few seconds later, still puckered, she opened her eyes again. Apparently he’d declined the offer. She looked at him pointedly, but he ignored her, watching the road as he drove.

       “Hello!” she reminded him, gesturing towards her available body.

       “Why don’t you unzip your shorts for me, Reyna.”

       Reyna complied, thinking he wanted to finger her. “Come on, honey, give me your hand,” she encouraged.

       “No. I want you to take your shorts off all the way.”

       She laughed nervously. “Out here in the open? You’re kidding, right?”

       “No, Reyna, I’m not. Either do it or else I’m dropping you off right now.”

       “You’d make me walk?”

       “It’s safe enough. Town is two miles back that way.”

       “Bastard,” she muttered, when she realized he wasn’t kidding. Removing the tight shorts was tricky. She had to lift herself off the seat and do a lot of very suggestive wriggling. Hopefully it was enough to convince him to pull over somewhere and do something about it.

       “You happy?” she asked, dangling the shorts.

       He gave her a passing glance. “Now the top,” he told her.

       Reyna narrowed her gaze. “In your dreams, cowboy.”

       Jason snatched her cutoffs, tucked them under his left thigh. “Show me your breasts, Reyna, or you go out of the car, just like you are.”

       She looked down at her lower half, clad in green baby doll panties and an ankle chain. Hardly walking attire. Calling him a worse name than bastard, she yielded to the inevitable, bearing the whole of her beloved black snake tattoo. Not to mention the flesh around it.

       After an indifferent look, he said, “Give me the shirt.”

       She didn’t see any other choice, but once she complied it dawned on her she was even more in his control than ever. Sure enough, he put the new article of clothing with the old, under his leg, out of reach. Folding her arms, she made a mental note to never again go bra-less.

       “I didn’t say you could cover your tits.”

       Furious, eyes burning holes in his smug profile, she put her hands down, giving him and everyone else who might be on the road an uninterrupted view of her mammaries.

       “Now I want you to play with yourself,” Jason continued, ignoring her blatant show of indignation.

       The string of curse words fell out of her mouth without thought. When he began to slow down and pull to the shoulder, though, she got quiet real fast.

       “We’re up to three miles,” he advised putting the car in park. “It’ll be dark soon, but you’ll be fine if you jog all the way back into town.”

       Reyna grabbed his arm, trying to stop his sudden move to lean over and open her door. “This isn’t funny!” she exclaimed.

       “I didn’t say it was,” he replied, continuing to reach for the passenger door handle.

       Reyna came at him now with her fingernails, but Jason held her easily at bay with only one hand. His other hand was on the door catch, and she realized in a panic that he could evict her at any time.

       “Jason, please don’t do this to me!”

       “If you want to stay in, Reyna, you know what you need to do.”

       “No, I can’t do that.”  She shook her head vigorously.

       “No wait!” she wailed, as the door clicked open and he shoved her out, so that her bare feet were touching the dusty ground. “I’ll do it!”

       Pushing her the rest of the way, he closed the door behind her. “Do what?” he asked, unrolling the power window so he could hear her.

       “This,” she cried, plunging her hand under the waistband of her panties to touch her throbbing sex, no longer caring if anyone could see her.

       “Both hands,” he told her. “And make it hot.”

       Desperate, scared, publicly exposed and aroused, barefoot and half naked on the shoulder of a highway, Reyna masturbated for him, thrusting as many fingers as she could into her sopping wet opening. Almost at once, she began to climax.

       When she’d subsided, he told her to hand the panties through the window. Reyna obeyed, making herself naked and at his mercy. Arms at her side, she waited. A truck passed, horn blaring.

       “Get in,” he decided at last.

       After Reyna clambered back into the reclined seat, he told her to put her hands behind her head, gripping the headrest. She obeyed, clenching the seat with her sticky fingers. Hot, open, exposed, her juices trickling down her leg onto the expensive leather, Reyna waited, eyes closed, caught up in the rhythm of the road. She heard more horns honk, which meant more people could see her.

       It was infuriating, but also exciting, like nothing she’d ever known. To be totally at the mercy of this person she’d only just met. With most boys, she was the natural leader, and she’d wrapped them round her finger with her slightest glances or flashes of flesh.

       Contrary to the belief of her ever-paranoid mother, Reyna was still a virgin. She’d only gone this far today to piss Cynthia off. But now it was different. She was feeling deeper things, female things. Things that told her maybe Jason was the one to whom she was meant to surrender.

       Jason pulled into an asphalt drive, punched some numbers into a keypad, causing a metal gate to roll aside. What on earth were they doing here? she wondered as row after row of large silver doors passed on either side. They were in a storage area of some kind, she could tell that much.

       “Here we are,” Jason announced, pulling up in front of one of the identical rolling steel doors, this one marked Z 35. Taking all of her clothes in hand, he opened his door. “Come on, baby, this is the end of the line.”

       “But I’m naked,” she said, as though it needed explaining.

       He shrugged. “It’s not very far to the door. And hardly anyone comes out here.”

       She watched in horror as he got out, closed the door behind him. “Best protection is in there,” he pointed out, inclining his head to the locked storage unit. “I’ll wait at the door for you.”

       Reyna glared. He’d wait till hell froze, she told herself, releasing her hands from the seat rest and hugging her breasts. Just then she heard the truck engine. Oh God, someone was coming. If she went fast, maybe she’d make it in time. Flinging open the passenger door, Reyna made a mad dash, jiggling obscenely as she went.

       “What are you waiting for?” she cried when she saw him lounging by the door, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles.     

       “The key’s in my pants,” he drawled, as though that meant something.

       “Then take it out!” she screamed. “Hurry!”

       The truck was closing in fast, and still he just stood there.

       “Do you want to get us arrested?!”

       He grinned slyly. “Not likely in my case,” he told her. “My mother runs the place.” 

       How nice for him, she thought.

       “Of course, if you want, you can get the key out yourself,” he offered teasingly.

       Frantically, she pawed at his pockets. “Give it to me!”

       He brushed her hands away. “It’s not in my pocket.”

       “What do you mean?  Where is it then?” 

       The look on his face as she followed his eyes down to his crotch was all the answer she needed. The son of a bitch had put the key down his underwear.

       “I hope this hurts!” she declared, reaching for his belt buckle.

       This time he yanked her hands away by the wrists, holding them upright. “No hands,” he told her. “You have to use your teeth.”

       Reyna’s face flushed hot. She felt weak all over. For all intents and purposes, Jason was asking her—forcing her—to go down on him, naked in the middle of an open storage yard.

       She could hear the truck. It was close by. She could be caught at any minute, and by his own account, it would be her and not him who would pay the price if they were discovered. What choice did she have?

       The concrete felt rough on her knees. Not knowing what to do with her unwanted hands, she put them instinctively behind her back.

       Jason’s jeans—and opening them—became her world now. The belt was a challenge and she had to work hard at it, using all her jaw strength to undo the buckle. In the process, she had to press her naked breasts hard against the front of his pants for leverage, which only served to make her even wetter than she already was.

       The snap she had to undo with her lips and teeth, applying them more delicately than with the belt. Midway down with the zipper, her teeth clenching the tiny metal tab, she heard the truck finally pass by. Whoever it was must have stopped to look because she heard the engine idle for quite awhile. Humiliated, but heated to boiling, Reyna continued her slavish task.

       The jeans parted easily, but it was a struggle releasing his cock from the tight jockey shorts. He smelled so good, musky, with a pungent odor that was pure male. A sigh of relief, of distinct longing escaped her lips as she finally worked his organ free. In a single stroke, she deep throated him, forcing back the instinct to gag.

       Another vehicle was passing, loud like a motorcycle, but she was beyond caring. All that mattered, all she could see or feel or know was right in front of her, namely this strong, insolent boy with his totally unexpected power to dominate her, to bend her will to his, taking her way past the point of her own comfort.

       “That’ll do for now,” Jason said, prying her loose and bending to retrieve the key, which had fallen to the ground. “Let’s save some for later.”

       He had to hold her waist to get her inside, she felt so weak. She kept leaning against him, nuzzling his neck on tiptoes as he rolled the door back down, giving them utter privacy. It was dark momentarily, but then he flipped on an overhead fluorescent, bathing the empty steel walled room in an eerie white light.

       “You’ve got to be kidding,” Reyna exclaimed. She saw the handcuffs first, hanging from a chain on the ceiling, and just below that, a single mattress to which were attached four canvas straps with Velcro cuffs.

Bondage. Wasn’t that an old people’s game?

       “Lay down, Reyna. Spread your legs, secure yourself to the bed.”

       The voice sent her spinning. It wasn’t fair that a stranger could have such power over her. The mattress was dirty, it smelled like stale sex, but she was going to do exactly as he said, she knew she was.

       The springy material violated her smooth skin. No illusion of rest or sleep, it was a place for fucking. How many others had there been? Were the blondes among his victims? Reyna did her ankles first, securing them wide apart. The arms were trickier, but she managed it. Only when she was helpless, splayed for sex did Jason disrobe.

       Reyna’s dry mouth watered at the sight of him. He was absolutely perfect under his clothes, just as she knew he would be. Testing the limits of her bonds, she strained against the canvas, felt herself held, his perpetual prisoner if he so chose. So much frustration! She’d give anything to be able to leap up and claw him or suckle him or wrap her legs round his waist.

       He was torturously slow about the whole thing. She gave in to whimpers when he finally lowered himself, seizing a ripe nipple between his teeth. Giving no quarter, he made her buck and writhe and ultimately beg for the very thing he already intended to take from her.

       “You’re mine now,” he whispered as he sheathed himself in her wetness. Caught up in the fever, knowing he scarcely understood the implications anymore than she, Reyna responded in kind, offering soul and voice along with her already proffered body. Much did she promise, much did she reveal before he finally filled her slick virginal tunnel with his pulsing sex fluid.

       The breaching went unnoticed, save for specks of blood afterwards. For a long time he held her, but then he rose alone for a cigarette, taking his time, enjoying her bound beauty.

       For Reyna, being left there, a still available toy, was as erotic as the sex. Knowing how much he wanted her, that he would not let her free till he’d had his fill drove her wild. How she longed to please him further, to have him do forbidden things to her. Hints of these things lay all around them. The chains hanging above her, tantalizing. The whip dangling from a string on the wall, and the box marked Sex Toys.

       But all that would have to wait. When his cigarette was done, he let her free, tossed her the skimpy clothes, sans underwear. “Mine for safe keeping,” he explained, hanging the silky panties over his rearview mirror as they got back into his car. The leather felt funny on her bare, denim-covered ass. It made her want to strip all over again, but for his part, he said nothing as they rode under the early night sky. It was like he was alone.

       She was on the verge of thinking he’d lost interest when he told her to pop the glove compartment. “You’ll find a vibrator in there,” he told her. “Put it inside yourself and I’ll take you to dinner.”

       “You got it, Cowboy,” she said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.