Caitlin was stretched out, spreadeagled on the bed again, her wrists and ankles bound tautly to the corners.

Waiting.

Her heart was thumping and her muscles appeared and disappeared beneath her slightly tanned skin as she twisted against the straps, her body testing, pulling, stretching. Already, she was feeling her breathing become ragged, and she knew she was wet, embarrassingly wet!

And all he was doing was standing there and looking at her.

If there was such a thing as a traumatized mind, she thought, what was the reverse?

The last time he'd tied her up like this he'd spent hours torturing her. Oh, there'd been some pain, a little, but she barely remembered that in the avalanche of pleasure which had descended upon her – repeatedly. The orgasms had been so intense she'd ached inside, and every muscle in her body had been sore afterward.

Hours afterward.

“Are you going to just watch me?” she said, fighting to keep the breathless tone from her voice.

“I like watching you,” he said. “Especially when you're naked.”

“I'm always naked!”

His lips curved upward in a sort of beatific smile.

“How come you're not always naked? I like looking at you naked too.”

“Because I'm the leader. And you're … not.”

No, she was the slave girl, she thought, her stomach fluttering a bit at the mere thought of the words. HIS slave girl, his sex slave!

He was leaning against one of the tall, thin bedposts at the foot of the bed, arms folded, just looking at her as she fought to not move. She knew what she looked like, and felt a sense of ego and pride at the approval and appreciation in his eyes, as well as a breathless sense of excitement and anticipation.

She arched a little more... not too much, best not to overdo it. Yes, she saw the flicker in his eyes. He liked that all right!

She'd never really thought of herself as an exhibitionist before him, though of course, like any young woman she appreciated... being appreciated. But this naked appreciation was something different, especially given the amount of time she spent without her clothes these days!

She felt a hot ripple of sexual energy roll through her as his eyes moved down her body, and her next straining movement was involuntary as she gulped in air.

“Are you doing something to me?” she moaned.

His eyebrows raised.

“Some of that... that psychic werewolf stuff?”

He looked blank, then amused.

“What are you talking about, slave girl?”

“Matt said that... because of this sort of psychic bond you guys have I could get turned on just by being around you.”

“Lots of women get turned on being around me,” he said in arrogant amusement.

'You're not very humble.”

“True. Should I be?”

“So you're not like, turning me on with your mind.”

He let out a bark of laughter and pushed away from the post, then came over and sat down on the right side of the bed.

“What Matt was probably suggesting,” he said, his big hand finally reaching out to her, “is the … I don't know if you'd call it psychic or metaphysical, but there is a bond among the pack. It's difficult to explain to a non-pack member, to a normal human.”

His hand was on her belly, rubbing gently.

“You've put on muscle,” he said approvingly.

“Not like I had a choice,” she gulped.

He smiled, and his hand coasted up along her body. For such a powerful man he was surprisingly gentle, or could be when he wanted to. His hand lightly brushed along her ribs, then up and in to encircle her left breast. She was big enough that even stretched out on her back his hand, squeezing in, had plenty to squeeze, and her soft flesh was pushed in and up, the small pink nipple tingling.

 He squeezed only lightly before letting his fingers ease in to grasp her very, very stiff nipple.

She inhaled sharply as he caught her nipple between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it gently, rolling it between them.

“If one of us is aroused, that sense of arousal can be  ... felt, by another, in a way that can almost seem like it's their own arousal. That's especially so of the inexperienced, who haven't really learned how to differentiate between their own emotions and those they're sensing from their pack mates.”

“But I'm not a werewolf,” she said, her chest rising and falling much faster than it ought to be as he rolled her now burning, throbbing nipple casually between his fingers.

“But you have the gene, recessive or not. You had an ancestor who was a wolf.”

“I hope you mean werewolf.”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

He pinched her nipple just enough for her to gasp at the sudden pain, then eased his fingers and began to stroke it, to pluck it gently, adding a small twist.

“S-so does that mean if you're turned on I get turned on?”

“It's not as simple as that, but the longer you're with us, the longer you are surrounded by pack, the more sensitive you're going to become to things like our emotions. You don't have our instincts, though.”

“You didn't answer the question!”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you giving me attitude?”

“No, sir!” she gulped quickly.

He snorted. “In any event my sense of arousal could indeed influence you, much as the pack's arousal did at the club.”

She flushed to even remember it. All those slavering people, that sense of lust beating at her, it had turned her into a freaking nympho! God, she'd been baking in her heat!

“Why? Are you feeling... aroused?” he asked in amusement.

She strained against the straps as his fingers slid down between her legs. The moment he touched her clitoris her hips ground up against him and she moaned helplessly.

“Y-you're making me be this way!” she gasped.

“I should hope so, but if you'll notice, I'm not the one who's trembling with lust.”

He didn't even seem more than mildly amused, she thought in consternation.

His fingers dipped between the hot, swollen, tight lips of her sex and she let out a squeak as her hips against bucked up against him.

“Hmm, very wet in here,” he said, making her face flush even more.

His fingers, which had been simply dipping lightly within the mouth of her sex suddenly thrust in deeply and Caitlin cried out, back arching violently as her hips thrust up against him. It... hurt... but the ache of the sudden thrust was as nothing compared to the roar of heat which swept over her

“Fuck!” she cried.

He tsked at her and eased his fingers out. “What have I told you about using that sort of language?”

She gulped in air and tried to steady herself. Shit! He'd hardly started and she was already falling apart!

“This isn't fair!” she moaned.

“What isn't fair?” he asked, his fingers sliding up, giving her nipples a glancing stroke which made her gasp, then sliding up along her cheek and through her long, silky brown hair.

“You... you're using … your... your pack stuff to turn me into a nympho!”

He laughed softly. “I'm not using anything but my fingers.”

He drew back his hand and grinned, looking down at her, then stood up. She licked her lips, unable to take her eyes away as he slowly pushed down his boxer shorts. His cock wasn't even hard! But the sight of him took her breath away and her pussy thrummed hungrily.

He was tall and powerfully built, with his thick brown hair spilling across his forehead, broad shoulders, and deliciously well-defined muscles on chest and abdomen. Her eyes dropped to his stomach, a light six pack she loved gliding her own fingers across so much they twitched as if hungering to reach out for him.

His lower belly was as firm as the upper, his cock hanging thickly from a well-trimmed thatch of dark hair. Even his legs were treats for the eye. He was the first man she'd ever seen who looked even better entirely naked than clothed.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“You know I do. Bastard!”

He snorted. “Someone is looking for a spanking.”

She gulped anxiously, though a thrill of heat swept through her. Such suggestions were not jokes to him. He'd spanked her any numbers of times. And her bottom had flamed! Of course, that wasn't the only part of her that flamed.

He sat down again, and this time his hand caught her left foot and casually massaged it, then slid slowly, caressingly, up and down her ankle and lower leg. It moved higher, over her knees, then along the inside of her thigh as she felt her heart beat come faster. He leaned over her at the same time, casually wrapping her waist length hair around his fist.

“Hungh!” she gasped as he jerked her head up and back.

His lips were at her exposed throat, kissing gently, his tongue flicking out, his teeth just lightly nipping her as his other hand reached her groin. Fingers there pushed through her lips and deep into her pussy as he brought his thumb down against her clit.

His teeth nipped a bit more, his mouth opening wider. She felt or sensed or heard something like a low growl as he caught her throat in his jaw, and felt a brief sense of instinctive panic. But then his warm breath and soft tongue caressed her, the teeth eased back, and she moaned as he began to rub her clitoris.

His teeth moved up along the nape of her neck, his tongue and lips sucking, darting, caressing, massaging her. And then his mouth was against hers, kissing her. His lips met hers with an incredibly soft touch which grew harder firmer, almost bruising, even before his tongue began to dart out.

His fingers pumped slowly inside her, his thumb stroked against her clitoris, and Caitlin's hips ground helplessly against him as she kissed back with a wild breathless need that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her!

And then it did.

She cried out, back arching, as the orgasm swept through her, her hips bucking and her body twisting and straining against the straps. He kissed her through it, muffling her cries, his tongue delicately playing across her own until her body went limp.

He drew back then, releasing her hair, smiling.

“I'm going to enjoy myself tonight,” he said.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she gulped in air, and she moaned as he rolled fully onto the bed and then knelt between her legs. Now it was his lips and tongue moving up from her ankles to her thighs, his teeth nipping lightly. When he got to where he was headed he looked up along her body and met her eyes.

Then the true torture began.

***

She had little concept of time. It felt as though she'd been stretched out like this forever. A sheen of perspiration coated her skin and her hair was matted against her forehead as she gulped in air.

“Please!” she moaned. “Please! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! No! Ooohhhh!”

Another orgasm tore through her and her mind was swept away by the flood of sensations. She arched and twisted and bucked in helpless, maddened sexual fever, desperate for it to continue forever.

He'd kept her begging for an orgasm for a long time, while he teased her with his tongue and fingers, then pulled her back. She'd been sobbing when he'd finally, FINALLY let her fall over the edge into a screaming orgasm that had almost blown her mind out like a candle.

But then orgasm had followed orgasm. Her insides ached from the constant spasming muscles, and now she begged him to stop, or slow it down, to let her recover, but he wouldn't! And she was going insane!

“Please fuck me!” she gasped when she had finally recovered enough to speak. “Please fuck me! Please, master! Please fuck your slave girl! Please! Please, master!”

She had to get him to fuck her or he'd keep this up forever! God!

And then he finally slid atop her, and then - .

“Oh God! Oh yes!” she groaned, feeling not only incredible relief but a wild, raw emotional pleasure at having him inside her, feeling herself penetrated, not by fingers, but by his hard, thick cock, feeling him driving deep inside her, stretching out the walls of her sex, filling her so … so completely!

She moaned as he lay atop her, his teeth at her throat, up under her ear, then on her own mouth as he ground his hips gently against her. His big cock shifted and moved within her, and she whimpered and moaned, trying to push herself up harder against him.

He did this to her, drove her into a sexual fever, as if she was intoxicated, drunk or high on sex, nothing else mattering but the pleasure. Sex had never been anything like this before him, and she felt, despite the orgasm which had just passed, the heat within her blossoming once again.

He started slowly and, for him, gently, but that couldn't last. He'd already demonstrated his mastery over her, over her body, and his own stern self-restraint. He could give in now to the animal instincts which drove him, and she knew he would.

He did. His strokes became faster, harder, as the animal took hold of him. She felt or sensed that growling again, and when his hands forced their way under her and cupped her straining buttocks he began to thrust himself into her with harsh, powerful strokes that ached... and felt wonderful!

Animals did not make love. Wolves did not make love. He was fucking her! She twisted and writhed as the heat rose like a flickering wall of flames again, scalding her body and mind. He drove himself into her harder now, and she cried out with every deep thrust.

Another orgasm rose and swept over her, and then another, and still another, as she felt herself riding the sensual, sensory roller-coaster, her nerve endings crackling and snapping, her nervous system threatening to overload from the torrent of intense sensation. She screamed as he rammed himself into her again and again, and then his own head jerked up and back, the muscles in his throat showing as his face assumed a mask of intense pleasure and release.

***

She wakened to heat, as ever. Benjamin seemed to have a particular talent for rousing her body while her mind still slept, her skinning his fingers and lips and tongue so lightly along her body that she was moist and ready by the time her eyes fluttered open.

“Mmm.” was all she said, her eyes filled with sleep

She was aware her legs were already spread, and moaned as she felt the light caress of his tongue against her. Then the bed was shifting and moving as he climbed up her body, and she opened her eyes to see him kneeling above her on all fours, looking very possessive.

He slid down atop her and she groaned as she felt his hardness pressing against her stomach. He eased his hips up and guided himself into her as she let out a long groan of sleepy pleasure. She was, she realized, laying on her wrists, which were still linked together from the previous night. It wasn't unusual for her to sleep like that, wrists shackled behind her.

It wasn't like she could (or would) resist him, but he seemed to enjoy the psychological element of having a free reign with her body – with his body, as he'd explained, since he owned her. Now he was atop her and inside her, his hands sliding down to cup her buttocks as he began to thrust.

This was not something which would take long, for either of them, since he'd already roused her. She didn't know why he took such care to do it before she woke, as if waking to arousal was something she ought to experience each day. But then Benjamin seemed to be incapable of enjoying himself on her body unless she was enjoying herself more.

Now it seemed as if he was half asleep too, as he half crushed her, his hips giving her a slow, grinding fuck that had her panting and moaning weakly beneath him as he tried to bend his head in enough to get at the side of her throat.

His sleepiness – and hers – eased off quickly, and his hips began to move with more strength and power, until the bed began to shake beneath her as he plunged deep again and again.

There was little for Caitlin to do with her arms bound beneath her. She tried to draw her legs up and around him, and succeeded at first, but then his hips began to move more rapidly, and the thrusts made her gasp and caused her legs to fall away as her heat intensified.

He would not come before she did, and she had, on previous occasions, done her best to delay that as long as possible. She was too tired and too ready this morning, though, and gave herself to the orgasm as he drove himself into her with hard, short, rapid strokes.

Five minutes later she was in the kitchen, setting up for breakfast, which took very little time since she'd taken care of most of it the previous night before bed. She made sure the coffee was just about ready, put out the jam, turned on the oven to pre-warm it, then hurried back up to join him in the shower.

The way he liked his showers was to soap up her body, and then that soap would be transferred to his as he held her against him. She was tall enough that with her arms over his shoulders her body fit neatly against his while they kissed, and their morning kisses pleased her even more than her morning orgasms. They lasted longer, for one thing.

She sighed in pleasure as her soapy flesh slid and ground against his, as she rubbed her breasts against his chest and her soapy arms and hands slid up and down his back, then down onto his buttocks.

She'd learned a lot in the last few months about what pleased him, and how to interpret his moods, and all in all they were getting along, well, not like an old married couple, which was her first thought, but more like young lovers. True, he was older than she by about a decade, but he had a lot more energy than she'd ever have.

And he wasn't one of those men who kept things secret and made her hunt them out. He made his desires quite clear as to what he wanted her to do, and as his slave girl, none of it was a suggestion.

Still, she didn't think of herself as all that slave-like, and after doing his 'front' she slid behind him, pressing her still soapy breasts against his back, rising to kiss his shoulder as she slid her arms around him and let her hands enjoy the tactile joy of gliding up his slippery chest and down his slippery belly.

And in between his legs, of course.

That last was not something on the schedule. He'd already taken care of that, after all, and he disliked it when she decided to improvise. Still, her soft, soapy fingers caressing and massaging his cock had an almost immediate effect, enough that there was no reprimand or demand she stop.

She knew, however, what the result would be, and wanted it that way. She wasn't trying to get herself off, she was trying to arouse him. She had few opportunities to do things to him as opposed to laying back while he did them to her. In fact, if there was one thing in their sex life she missed it was the back and forth give and take.

Not that many women would have minded, after all, for it was she doing all the taking and he doing all the giving. And nothing seemed to arouse him as much as her arousal.

But he was soon hard and thick and thrusting not just straight out but angled up a little, enough that as her soapy fingers massaged his balls and moved up and down the shaft she felt herself rousing anyway. But that was all right. Unlike a man she didn't need to get off every single time. That wasn't something Benjamin seemed to realize.

She'd had lots of good, pleasurable sex before him, but had never orgasmed with a man inside her before. She'd only come with men performing oral sex on her, or, more usually, by herself, at her own hand.

His hips were slim enough she spooned herself neatly against him as she squeezed him. She was starting to get aroused enough to consider where she wanted that lovely cock to go, though, so it was just as well he turned on the water. It poured down on them from all directions. There were six shower-heads in the shower, after all, in addition to the rainwater spout overhead.

And as the soap was washed away he pulled her around in front of him, turning her and pushing down on her shoulder. She needed not further hint and sank to her knees before him. She pursed her lips as his big hands moved behind her head, kissing the front of his cock. As he pushed forward, she let her lips slowly be 'forced' aside so that they caressed his shaft as it slid through and across her tongue.

She began to suck as soon as the head was inside, her tongue licking quickly as he sighed and pushed deeper. His long shaft slid through and across her tongue, and then the head pushed down into her throat, sliding deeper and deeper.

She had no difficulty taking him now. She'd been able to deep-throat before meeting him, after all, though all the experience she'd had the last few months with he and his pack had vastly increased her expertise. She pressed her lips tightly around the base of his shaft as she felt the pressure of his hands against the back of her head.

Then the pressure eased and she pulled back a bit, only to have him thrust in again. She pulled back and he thrust in. His hips were working quickly now, and she sucked as best she could as she very carefully drew in small breaths around his thickness.

It had taken her a while to learn how, but learn she had. It didn't allow her to breathe, really, but it did allow her to apply a certain measure of suction.

And she knew, absolutely knew that he would draw himself back before she ran out of air. Unlike a merely human lover he could sense her emotions, would know when the air really ran out and she began to feel concerned, began to feel anxious.

And he did, sliding his cock back out until she could gulp in air, even while sucking hungrily on the head. She reached up to squeeze the shaft, to massage his balls while bobbing her lips rapidly on the front half of his cock.