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Message-ID: <47732asstr$1083957004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} {Winslow} "The Kiss" (Part 1) (D/s, M/F) [1/3]
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Date: Fri,  7 May 2004 15:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "The Kiss 1.txt" begin>

The Kiss (D/s, M/F)
By Don Winslow
Part 1/3


The Collector turned on a spirited little piece by Vivaldi, hummed 
along as he meandered around the darkened room, leisurely stripping to 
the waist.  He took his time, his fingers working their way down the 
front of his shirt, deliberately opening each button, unbuttoning the 
cuffs, peeling the white shirt off his shoulders.  Bare-chested, he 
turned on the overhead track lighting, and set about adjusting the twin 
lamps to flood the girl displayed before him.  Then he picked up a tall 
wooden stool to move it into place directly in front of his pinioned 
captive.   He poured himself a brandy and then climbed on his high 
perch, hooking his boot heels over a lower rung, to sit with folded 
knees elevated, facing the staked-out girl who, still unconscious, was 
slumped forward in her restraints, her head and shoulders sagging down.  
A shimmering cowl of soft brown hair fell forward to mostly hide her 
face.  He took a sip from the brandy glass he held cradled in both 
hands, and glanced at his watch.  The Collector was a patient man; he 
was prepared to wait.  It wouldn't be much longer till the chloroform 
began to wear off. 


Meanwhile, he would use this interlude to leisurely enjoy the sight of 
the splendidly naked girl who was now in his hands; her young coltish 
body splayed open, pinned like a rare butterfly against the tilted slab 
of smooth, vinyl-covered plywood in the pose he especially favored -- 
arms held up as if in surrender; legs spread open.   He had tried out 
many such arrangements, but he judged this one as best: the girl's 
hands, slim and delicate, raised up even with her face; thin wrists 
positioned on either side of the head, held in place there by leather 
straps affixed to the board.  Similar straps secured her opened ankles 
to the board, holding her bare feet in a widened stance, thus 
preventing the captive from closing her legs. 


The imposed stance was not so wide as to stretch the legs 
uncomfortably, but it would serve to make the point when she came to 
and fully realized how she was splayed out.  She would know then just 
how open she was to this man; her legs spread apart for him, her body 
completely exposed!


Now he saw the young woman stir, her lolling head rising up slowly, 
brown eyes fluttering open to find a half-naked man sitting there 
before her -- watching her with thoughtful gray eyes.  At first it 
didn't register.  Her vision was still bleary from the lingering 
effects of the chloroformed rag he had pressed to her nose holding it 
there till she collapsed in his arms and he hauled her limp body into 
the van.  The adduction had taken no more than half a minute, marked by 
a frantic, flailing struggle that crested in the final moment of panic. 
That moment had instantly yielded to the overcoming feeling of 
drowsiness that descended on her like a heavy blanket, obliterating her 
world as she fell into the abyss.


Joyce remembered little of what had happened, just bits and pieces that 
came to her, disconnected.  Still disoriented, she looked at the 
smooth-muscled physique of the seated man, her mind struggling to make 
sense of it all.  He was alert, watching for what he saw now as those 
big brown eyes began to focus and the girl gained a dawning awareness 
of her situation: spread out, unable to move her arms and legs, and 
worse, when the full realization hit her like a ton of bricks -- she 
was stark naked!  She let out a howling scream, but only a muted bray 
came out, and it was then that she realized she was not only tied up 
but she was also gagged!  She was totally helpless, a wildly scared 
animal driven by instinct.  A wave of rising panic flooded over the 
captive; her eyes widened in alarm and she strained to free her arms, 
twisted in frenzied rage, yanked hard against her bonds, again and 
again!  But the leather straps held.  


The Collector watched her futile efforts with calm unwavering eyes; sat 
motionless while she brayed her protests in mounting urgency, all the 
while straining against the leather restraints, small fists working 
reflexively as she thrashed about in mounting panic.  He did nothing, 
letting her flail about thumping against the backboard, till the 
futility of her resistance began to sink in.  It was hopeless. Tied as 
she was, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, she could do.  In the 
end she could only give up, and with a final gurgled protest, she fell 
silent, hanging limply, breathing heavily, regarding him with glaring 
eyes widened in fear from over the red rubber ball jammed between her 
gaping teeth. 


She was sweating lightly; her face sheened with perspiration.  He could 
almost smell the girl's fear.  He said not a word, just looked deep 
into those frightened doe eyes...and gave her a smile.


End of part 1 
Copyright 2004, Don Winslow
More of Don Winslow's erotic fiction may be found at 
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Don_Winslow/www/
<1st attachment end>


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