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Prisoner of Pleasure & Other Captivating Stories
by Valentine Adams

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: In this fiery collection of modern B&D tales, Valentine Adams, bestselling author of SoulBond introduces you to "Joelle's Secret." What is her secret? Joelle has a kinky past about boss is totally unaware. When he pays her a visit while she's recovering from surgery, she makes an unusual request. She wants him to kidnap her. It will certainly tighten the bonds of friendship. Then find out what happens when writer Kasey Heart gets "A Little Help from a Friend" and spends the weekend as a hostage, bound in the attic of his home. Next you'll meet Chloe, a young woman who is "Bound by Guilt," forced to obey a blackmailer's whim in return for his silence. Lucinda Hamil is a pretty, successful realtor trapped by a madman. But Lucida soon learns that things aren't always what they seem, and that she has become a "Prisoner of Pleasure." And these are only some of the unforgettable stories you will discover in Valentine Adams's first ever collection exploring the inner mind and outer limits of bondage and surrender.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2005
eBookwise Release Date: January 2006

eBookeBook

10 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [183 KB]
Words: 45628
Reading time: 130-182 min.


JOELLE'S SECRET
* * * *
CHAPTER 1.

Joelle came to work for me almost six years before this all happened. Believe it when I say, this is a first for me. I've been in the workforce for more than twenty years since I graduated college, and for almost all that time, I've been in at least middle management. I'd just become a department director on the previous January first when Joelle interviewed for an open entry-level post with me. She had everything I had hoped for, and more. An Associates degree in business and over three years experience was far better than I'd thought might be available to me. She was leaving her present job where she had been employed for over three years because the employer offered no benefits. Her wardrobe had a professional appearance, even though she hardly looked old enough to be driving, let alone working full-time. What really sold me was her childlike enthusiasm.

I hired her and she has been an excellent addition to my staff. After more than five years, I have come to rely heavily on her, and to know I can depend on her professionalism and ability. I have also grown to enjoy her presence and her kind heart, and occasionally ribald sense of humor. She easily embarrasses herself, but that doesn't stop her from telling self-incriminating tales. I have developed a genuine fondness for her, and I look forward to seeing her every morning.

Recently a sudden illness required emergency surgery. Even from her hospital bed, I was included in her thoughts. The potential impact of her absence was greatly lessened by a simple phone call. She let me know she was going into the operating room and would be out for six weeks, if all went well. Needless to say, I visited her in the hospital and took her meals at home when she was finally back there.

It was during one of these home visits, at about the fourth week after her surgery that she and I had a few minutes alone. Her mom had been staying with her, but had just taken the opportunity to go home for a change of clothes and to see her husband while I visited. Joelle was beginning to get a little grumpy. This was a side of her I'd never seen, and made a comment to that effect.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm sick of being in the house. I really miss getting outside and riding my bike and walking."

"Well, I could come by one night and take you out riding in my convertible. It's getting warm and we could bundle you up and put the top down and go for a ride under the stars."

She was immediately taken with the idea and became excited at the prospect, but since her mother had returned and was now in the room with us, the conversation became stilted and strained. I finally excused myself and told Joelle I'd see her the next day.

When it was time for my visit the following evening, I was surprised to have my knock at the front door answered by the lady of the house herself. She was out of bed and watching a movie on television in her small living room. Of course I was pleased she was doing so well, and a little surprised that she was home alone. Even though Joelle was thirty at the time, I suspected she was still her mother's little girl. Not so much by Joelle's choosing, but by her mother's insistence.

But her mom was not to be found in the small house. When it finally occurred to me there was no one else in the house, I inquired.

"So I guess your mom expected me and took the chance to run home briefly?"

"No. I asked her to go on home. She's been stayin' here for nearly a month and she needed to be there with dad. Besides, she was really pluckin' my last nerve. She's just ... I don't want to sound unappreciative, but ... well, she's just so bossy. I've been on my own for over ten years, but she hasn't really accepted it."

"Are you okay to be alone? I mean can you do everything you might need to do?"

"Yeah. I'm really fine. I mean, I can't lift anything heavy, but I can make a sandwich or heat some soup. I can surely use the microwave! I mean, I probably can't change the bed by myself yet, but the sheets are clean and I'm sure to be totally back to normal in another coupla weeks."

"I guess it's probably a good thing then to have some privacy."

I had gotten the distinct impression during my regular visits over the past couple of weeks that her mom was a little nosy. She would come and stand in the bedroom while Joelle and I talked. She didn't really join in the conversation, she was just there.

"She's totally nosy. I don't know if you noticed that when you were here, she would come and just stand in my room and listen to whatever we talked about. Well, what you didn't know was that she would play twenty questions after you would leave."

"Really? About what?"

"She's convinced we're havin' an affair. She would ask all sorts of questions about you, if you were married and how much older you were than me. That sort of crap."

"I'm amazed. Particularly since she used my visit last night to go home and change clothes."

"I told her to do that. I said you and I needed to talk about a personnel problem at the office and you didn't want to discuss it in front of her. Oh, she didn't want to go! She said it was inappropriate for you to be here with me in the bedroom without anyone else in the house. And in my nightgown!"

"I guess she's just tryin' to protect your image."

"Don't defend her. I'm thirty years old. I can take care of myself. It's just been strange the past year, since Bret and I broke up. She doesn't understand that I'm really not interested in datin' someone right now. I mean, I do want a relationship, but I'm really picky. 'Course, she thinks Bret was perfect. Successful lawyer, reasonably handsome, nice house. He had all the right stuff, ya know? If she really knew the truth about him! Sure he gave me an engagement ring, but marriage was the farthest thing from his mind. That was five years wasted. Anyway, enough about all that. Tell me when you're gonna kidnap me and take me away in your convertible."

"Kidnap you? I didn't know you were plannin' to resist!"

She quickly responded with an impish smile that let me know she was on the road to recovery.

"You never can tell what I might be plannin'."

I just loved that coy yet mischievous expression she would get whenever she pulled a quick one, or she was planning a quick one.

"So when are ya gonna kidnap me?"

"Well, I'll take you for a ride tonight if you're up to it. The kidnapping probably ought to wait until you're fully recovered!" I sort of laughed it off, but she wasn't about to let it go.

"I'll hold you to that."

* * * *
CHAPTER 2.

We had gone for a ride that night, and again each night for the next week. On what would have been the eighth night in a row, the rains came, and for nearly a week, the spring rains kept us indoors each night. We still had our visit, and I brought her two books to read and rented videos so she wouldn't be bored to tears. On at least three occasions, she reminded me I'd agreed to kidnap her.

On a Thursday night, six weeks and two days after her surgery, I arrived for my usual visit about seven in the evening. Joelle was dressed for the first time since she'd returned from the hospital. Even when we had gone out in the convertible, she had only worn a big terry robe over her nightgown. That night, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt when she let me in the front door.

"Hey, new PJs!"

"No, but I'm about ready to go change into pjs sure enough. I went to the doctor this morning, then this afternoon I went to the mall and walked around and window-shopped and had lunch, then went to a movie. Now I'm a little tired."

"What did the doctor say?"

"I'm cured! Seriously, he said I can go back to work on Monday."

"Any conditions? Or are you back to regular workdays?"

"He said I could do anything I feel like doin'. I'm totally healed from the surgery."

"That's great! I can't tell you how much we've missed you at the office."

"I can't tell you how glad I am you can finally kidnap me now!"

I was taken aback by this statement. I was beginning to get a little paranoid about what she actually expected me to do. Obviously I couldn't really kidnap her. Besides being illegal, she worked for me. We have all these employment rules about dual relationships. Since I supervised her, I couldn't have a social arrangement with her as well. What really pissed me off about the whole situation was that I really liked her. I liked the way she looked. I liked her personality. She was smart and funny. We shared many common interests, liked the same movies and books, and since my wife and I had been separated for nearly a year at that point, I was beginning to ache for feminine companionship. I understood that I was fifteen years older than she was, but I was beginning to find her nearly irresistible.

I've always liked small women. Joelle was certainly small. At only five three and about a hundred pounds, she fit my physical preferences perfectly. I also found her thin legs and small feet very feminine. Her small breasts, which couldn't have been more than thirty-two Bs, were exactly what I liked. I also have this thing for redheads, and Joelle was almost a redhead. There was just enough strawberry blonde in her hair to keep it from being actually red, but it was close, really close, and I loved her sparkling blue eyes and cute face. Okay, I had the hots for her. What can I say? Having the hots for her meant I wanted to do anything for her she asked me to do. I just didn't know about the whole kidnap thing.

"Joelle, I'm not sure just what you mean when you say you want me to kidnap you."

She didn't respond straight away. Instead, she looked very carefully at my face. It was as if she were searching into my soul to see if she could say whatever it was that was on her mind--or maybe it was just to try and see what I was made of. At the point that the silence was about to make me say something stupid just to have conversation going on again, she nodded slightly and spoke in a very soft and childlike voice. When she finally started, it was only after she had broken eye contact. She looked down into her lap as if she didn't want to see any reaction on my face.

"Do me a favor. I'm gonna go change into a nightgown or pjs or somethin'. In the kitchen, there are stairs that go down to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs you'll see shelves against the wall you'll be facing when you get down there. At the far right end on the top shelf there's a box that's marked 'old toys'. I want you to take it down and look at the stuff in it. Then if you still want to, take it home with you. You'll know what to do."

She got up and went into her bedroom without another comment. I sat there for a minute analyzing those cryptic words, but my curiosity got the best of me and I went into the kitchen. The lights for the basement were on two switches at the top of the stairs and I turned on both. I could tell from there that the lighting was florescent and there was plenty of it.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around, I was amazed that even her basement was spotless. The entire space was orderly and neat with whitewashed walls a gray painted floor. Just to the left, next to the doorway to the outside, were the washer and dryer. Separated from the laundry area by a deep sink were the shelves she'd mentioned. The entire wall to the corner on my right had open wooden twelve-inch deep storage. Against the wall on the very top level, I saw a box slightly larger than a cubic foot and it was labeled 'old toys'. Surely Joelle had to use a stepstool to reach it.

I lifted the box down and turned around to the laundry folding table adjacent to the stairs and placed the box there. The flaps of the corrugated carton were woven in the typical manner one uses to simply close a box of its sort without the use of tape or staples. I pulled the top flaps up and looked into the box.

Flabbergasted couldn't begin to describe my initial reaction to what I found there. Slowly lifting the contents, one at a time, I examined each before laying them on the table. The first was a very soft leather blindfold with an adjustable strap. Next was a gag with a bright red ball that had to be an inch and a half or maybe an inch and three quarters in diameter. It seemed far too large to fit into Joelle's small mouth. Chrome caught my eye and I lifted out two pairs of handcuffs with about an inch of connecting chain and another set with about twelve or fifteen inches of chain. I found a total of eight black leather cuffs in different sizes. The last two items were the most bazaar of all.

At first I had difficulty figuring out exactly what it was, but after a moment of examination, it was obvious the incredibly soft and thin leather device was a hood designed to totally cover the head. There was an opening through which the nose could protrude and at the mouth was an additional opening. The hood expanded by a leather-lined vent under the zipper closure, which ran from the crown down the back of the head to the leather collar attached to the bottom. I could just imagine this on her head. She would have difficulty hearing since there were no openings on the sides. There would be total darkness since there were no openings for the eyes. The collar would be buckled at the back of her neck after the zipper was closed and removal could be made impossible after one of the small locks was closed in its hasp. A gag made from the same soft leather was designed to cover the mouth opening and the penis shaped bit on the inside of the gag would surely quiet the wearer. Once this sinister tool was fully installed, the victim would only have the sense of smell remaining.

The final surprise the box held was a harness of straps. Again, it took a minute of examination to determine what I was holding, but I finally laid it out on the table and saw that it went onto the torso. There was a two-inch wide strap, which went around the waist, two one-inch-wide straps, one just below the breasts and another just above the breasts. Smaller straps ran vertically and connected each of these, then went over the shoulders down the back and through the crotch to connect again at the waist. There were buckles on every strap so the harness could be tightened to fit. There were also steel rings in the middle of the front and back of each of the three main straps to which other things could be attached. There were several small steel locks and a ring of keys hanging on one of the leather straps of the harness.

I stood there in stunned silence for what must have been five minutes. Everything I knew about Joelle was that she was very modest, almost to the point of shyness. She was extremely easily embarrassed and blushed at the drop of a hat. I couldn't imagine these things being in a box in her basement, much less that she'd ever know how they were used. Totally forget the wildly remote impossibility they would have actually been used on her.

I put everything back into the box and closed the flaps as they had been before placing the box back on the high shelf. Still considering how I was going to deal with this revelation, I walked slowly back up the stairs. I called out to Joelle and from her reply I knew she was in her bedroom. When I walked through the door, I saw that she was in the bed and had pulled the covers up over her head. I knew she must be so embarrassed that it was nearly painful. She didn't move as we had our next conversation.

"Joelle?"

"Did you find the box?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Whose stuff is that?"

"Mine."

"Where did it come from?"

"I stole it from Bret."

Was that a sigh of relief I almost felt, or a drop of disappointment? Maybe she didn't really know about that stuff.

"You stole it?"

"When we broke up."

"Do you even know what it is?"

"Sure ... It's bondage stuff."

"Where did it come from?"

"Bret bought it ... for me."

Again I felt the total shock only something so unbelievable could cause, but now I also felt the definite tingle of excitement.

"Did he use any of it on you?"

"Yes."

"What ... did he use on you?"

"All of it."

"All of it?"

"Yep."

"Was it like an experiment or something?"

"No. Bret liked that sort of stuff."

"And how did you feel about it?"

"Well ... at first I was frightened. He really had to convince me, but he was very gentle and patient. He took things very slowly at first."

"At first? How long did this go on?"

"Almost all the time we dated."

"That was five years!"

"I know."

"And he did that sorta stuff to you for five years?"

"Yep. Pretty much--and he did more than that. He used rope and other stuff too. I just didn't steal that."

"How often did you do that?"

"Whenever we were together. We'd play 'kidnap' and he'd keep me prisoner all weekend sometimes, but then he just kept getting' rougher. He hurt me a lot there at the end."

"Did he just get carried away?"

"No. He wanted me to leave him. He was seeing another girl on the side."

I had never known why they broke up. I just knew it happened and she had cried for a week, but now I had a totally different picture.

"So do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

"No! ... I want you to use it ... to kidnap me."


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