Straightforward

CODE: T (set in the Trench Rats/Tunnel Rats storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Both scenes: NA

PAIRING: Inspector Louis Dobermann/Inga Dobermann (M/F)

EXPLANATION: The first scene here, "Straightforward," is somewhat older. I wanted to describe how Inspector Dobermann of The Trench Rats ended up with his wife (who is dead by the time the storyline starts). Needless to say, it was a rather odd relationship. I think Inga complemented Dobermann, and understood his moods, pretty well...too bad, since she's now dead. o_o

DISCLAIMERS: None that I can think of at the moment.

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Straightforward

She remembered meeting him for the first time on his own estate. All the men and women of importance had been invited, and it was while they mingled that she heard the first rumors about him, whispered by the other women.

"I hear he's nobility, really. A baron, or something."

"His father was. But the family was stripped of that honor."

"Why? What did they do?"

"Nothing I know of, just someone in a position of power didn't like them much."

"I hear he's never taken a wife."

"He's quite handsome."

"Who cares. Just look at him--there's something I don't like. Some look in his eyes..."

"You're just afraid his eyes won't be for you."

Quiet giggles. Yet as she turned to peer at him, at the far side of the room, it seemed to her that he was looking back.

Her friend nudged her arm. "I think he wants you to join him, Inga."

She paused to make certain that he'd looked her way, before leaving the group to join him. She'd bowed to him slightly; he'd put out his arm, without saying a word, and she'd taken it and accompanied him from the room.

The room next door, from the look of it, had been reserved for works of art, as paintings and tapestries covered the walls, and statues sat upon oaken tables. The place was mostly in shadow now, lit only by the glow coming in through the doorway. She remembered that it was here where he thrust her up against the wall, pushing up her heavy skirts, undoing his pants, and brutally taking her virginity. She'd gasped, but hadn't fought back, or cried out; he was barely more than a silhouette before her, moving quickly but breathing steadily as his hips repeatedly pressed hers to the wall. She remembered his hands keeping her spread open for him, his fingers sinking into the flesh of her buttocks; behind her she could feel a heavy tapestry rubbing against her bare skin. His breath fanned hot over her neck. A small stand beside them bumped against the wall as they moved.

The door behind him was wide open to the next room, and from it came the light and sounds of the people at the party, chattering and laughing politely, glasses clinking; just several yards away paced her friends, who might at any moment glance in to see him thrusting into her against the wall, her skirts bunched up over her hips and his own moving rapidly. Yet somehow no one seemed to notice their absence, no one thought to look in if possibly hearing her gasps as he pushed into her deeply.

A moment later, and as quickly as it had begun it was over. She felt his spurt, the slight shiver of his climax; he let out the barest breath and pulled himself from her. She stayed leaning against the wall, panting, as he did up his pants, briefly straightened himself out, and left the room; her heart pounded and the sweat shone on her brow at the slight delicious tang that had passed through her. She'd soon realized that she would have to face her friends again; and so, using her bunched-up handkerchief to stanch the blood, she straightened her crumpled skirts, brushed back her hair and wiped her face, and rejoined the party.

That had been only their first encounter. The next time she'd been alone with him he'd taken her in front of the roaring fireplace, the feel of bear fur against her back, her muscles straining in tempo with him as he moved. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist, running them up and down, crying out her pleasure at the air; she knew he had servants in the house at times but then she hadn't cared. His response had been to squeeze her buttocks tightly, drawing her to him, pushing himself deeply, deeply. No matter how quickly or slowly he went, his motions were always studied, purposeful. His passion was like fiery ice. As he aroused the heat in her, he stayed always cool himself. She never saw him wild or out of control.

Not even when, one night, he'd brought out several lengths of silken cloth, not speaking a word, and she'd allowed him to undress her and tie her to their bed. She'd found herself lying with arms and legs spread, her wrists and ankles restrained by the cloth tied to the bedposts, and him kneeling over her caressing her breasts and kissing her deeply. His touch burned her skin, yet his fingers were cool. She ached and arched to join with him, pushing her hips up with a soft moan; he'd grasped her buttocks, holding her aloft and straddling her legs, and with a low grunt--the only sound during their lovemaking that she could ever remember hearing him let out--thrust into her, his weight bringing her back down to the bed's surface and pressing her back. He'd kissed her neck, his hand running up her arm to touch the silken bond, tugging on and tightening it slightly as he moved. She knew now that the ties aroused him, seeing her tied down and spread open for him aroused him; he didn't act much differently, though he attained his erection more quickly, and would often make love to her longer, sometimes for two or three hours if the mood struck him. She'd giggled softly and swayed her hips, flexing the bonds. When he kissed her she lightly bit his lip. He'd smiled at her for that, and proceeded to kiss her ear, his teeth scoring the edge, his tongue tracing whorls and patterns; then he moved to her breasts, holding onto her hips as his weight shifted, once, again, again, licking the smooth firm flesh, sucking at the nipple. Inga moaned again, whispered for him to go faster--but a slight noise at the door--and a small voice, calling, "Mama?"--had interrupted them.

He'd immediately stopped pushing into her and pulled away from her breast, looking up. Inga had looked also to see their young daughter standing at the door, rubbing tired eyes and looking in at them with some caution.

The only sign of his anger that she'd detected was a tightening of his hand on her shoulder. "Addy, honey," she'd called out soothingly, offering a slight smile. "It's all right. Mama and Daddy are fine. Go back to your room and get some sleep."

The girl had hesitated a second--peering at her father until he gave a short nod--and then left the doorway, pattering off down the hall.

His grip was still hard on her shoulder. After a long tense silence she barely heard him say, "She sees too much."

"She's young. She knows no better."

"Mathilde should have kept a better eye on her." And with that he'd thrust within her as suddenly as ever, causing her to stifle a cry and strain against her bonds, drawing them tight. The rest of his lovemaking had been quick and almost perfunctory, and she had to wonder if he did it more for her sake than his. In either case it left her, as always, lying panting, spent and a little overwhelmed. It was always that way when he made love to her. Only after his anger had passed did he enter her again, and spent the next two hours bringing her to the brink of climax, pleasuring her as much as himself, before heeding her begging cries of release and relieving her by coming to orgasm himself, his seed warming her and leaving her exhausted, the sheen of sweat on his skin and his slightly heavier breathing the only signs of his pleasure and satisfaction.

Open Window

Weiss knelt in the bushes and put the binoculars up to his eyes, peering in the window of the estate. He waited, before seeing them enter the bedroom arm in arm, giving that look to one another. He licked his lips in anticipation. Tonight was the night.

Many of the past times when he'd spied on the young couple, he had watched in awe and lust while she allowed him to tie her down to the massive bed, arms and legs spread wide so she was pretty much helpless against him. Yet she never complained, and only seemed to fight should he ask her to. They were never rough with each other...but they were..."strict."

They had played the tie-down game plenty of times already...he continued to watch in the hopes that he would spy them at something else. He sensed creativity in these two. Their tying game, for example, had many variations that he'd seen. He wondered what they should decide to play tonight.

As he watched, they turned and kissed each other, she pressing close, placing one hand to his breast and looking up at him with a loving smile. He smiled back at her, though with a mischievous...or more...glint in his eye. He reached to pull something from his pocket and held it up to show it to her. Weiss started in surprise when he saw that it was...a bridle?

She seemed to be just as surprised as he was. Yet her reaction didn't last long before her smile returned, and his grew. She stepped back from him, reaching for the top of her gown and pulling it from her shoulders. Weiss's breath picked up as she let the gown fall to the floor...she wore only her bra, panties, and garters and stockings now. Her husband took her arm and led her back to the bed where he watched her remove the rest of her clothing, before she started on him, unbuttoning his jacket, removing his hat, his shirt, his pants, and more...

Weiss swallowed. The inspector had a very fine body...at least he thought so. He didn't consider himself to be that type, but there was something about the chiseled chest and perfectly formed hips that made his heart beat faster. He told himself it was only jealousy, his own desire for looks such as that...even while he placed a fist against his lap in an attempt to still the stirring down there.

The woman had removed all of her clothing by now except for her panties; her breasts, firm and full, hung free, and he came forward and kissed first one, then the other. Then he made a downward motion with his hand and she stooped to peel off the panties; Weiss nearly choked, his view was just perfect. He caught an excellent view of the curly ring of red lining her opening, and had to steady his breathing.

Keep calm, there's a whole night ahead.

She stood again, tossing her panties aside and stepping toward her husband. His smile remained and he dangled the bridle--Weiss saw now that it had short reins attached, and seriously wondered what he intended to do. He couldn't be getting ready for what Weiss thought he was getting ready for, could he? He could only watch to find out.

She stood on tiptoe to lightly kiss her husband on the lips, raising one foot in the air. He smiled at her but made another downward motion, his eyes taking on a stern look. Weiss saw, rather than heard, her giggle and she obeyed, going down to the floor to kneel on all fours. He swallowed again, then gasped in disbelief when the inspector followed her, leaning over her to place the bridle over her head, putting the bit in her mouth, with the reins trailing over her bare back.

He CAN'T be--!

He now went back behind her, one hand on the top of her buttock, the other going underneath her to feel, to judge her wetness. Weiss could see her sighing, or perhaps moaning. Her husband's fingers moved skillfully over her mound, rubbing her clitoris, collecting her juices and bringing her to readiness. Her body trembled. Weiss could see now his own rapidly swelling erection, though the expression on his face never changed. He brought his hand up and moved behind her, picking up the loose reins.

Weiss's eyes bugged with sudden lust. PLEASE tell me he's going to--

The woman slapped one hand against the floor as if pawing it. Her husband grabbed her hip in one hand, reins in the other, legs going atop hers as he suddenly pushed so his hips enveloped her own. He mounted her hard and then pulled back on the reins, HARD. Her head jerked back and her whole body spasmed with the abrupt motion as he impaled himself inside her, and she cried out.

Weiss gasped for breath. UnbeLIEVable!

The inspector reached to pull something down from the small bedside table and Weiss saw that it was a small whip, a riding crop. He whipped the back of her leg and she lurched beneath him, then started crawling across the floor slowly, he following on his knees. Every so often he would thrust his hips into her again, hard, and each time he would pull on the reins, bringing her to a stop, only to smack her again to get her going anew. In this manner they progressed awkwardly across the floor for some length of time, Weiss panting as he watched. He loosened his belt and slipped his hand inside his pants to gently massage his swelling member, hoping that the motion would appease him.

The woman continued walking on all fours, her breasts heaving; her husband pushed and then pulled, jerking her head back almost violently, and he saw the tears spring to her eyes. They'd never played this game before. At least...not while he had watched. What other things had he missed? It looked downright painful for her, but he wouldn't have minded being in the man's position...God...her ass had looked so firm, and any woman who would allow her lover to do this without complaint couldn't be that bad!

He hoped that little brat of theirs wouldn't come wandering into the room like she occasionally did, though with the noises the woman now made, he wouldn't be surprised if she did...

She choked off a cry, teeth grinding at the bit, when he rammed his hips into her. They could barely move around the floor now, his demand was so great; the moment she tried to move forward, he would thrust within her again. So finally the "mare" simply stopped, and her rider let go of the reins to grasp her middle, hips pumping rapidly. The rest of his body didn't even move, though his buttocks contorted wildly with each push. From his vantage point Weiss could see his face, the set determined look, teeth just barely showing with the strain, fevered lust in his eyes. His fingers sank into yielding skin; the woman tossed her head back with a high moan. Weiss licked his lips and stroked himself, unzipping his pants hurriedly.

And he briefly wondered what it would feel like if he were in the woman's position right now--as shocking as it was to him, he felt that he really wouldn't have minded being the object of the inspector's attention, feeling that within him...oh God...

What the hell is wrong with me...?

The inspector briefly leaned down over his crouching wife, hands caressing her skin, and his mouth moved slightly as if he spoke. Her eyes flew open in surprise, as if not expecting to hear him say anything; a moment later she tossed her head again and shuddered, and he knelt upright again, pumping his hips into her one last hard time, fingers squeezing as his head fell back and his buttocks trembled in orgasm. Weiss choked off a gasp, aimed himself at the ground, and spurted in release. He imagined himself both giving to the woman, and receiving from the man, and the feeling he got was an overwhelming one...

The man sagged into his wife briefly before pulling himself out--Weiss nearly moaned at the sight of him--and pulling her up to him so they kissed. He knew what would come next. Rarely would he settle for one round of sex alone; Weiss knew of times they had spent the whole night at it, up to four or five times, unbelievably. He was very demanding, very sensual. Weiss supposed that he was very lucky to have gotten as a wife someone as willing as he was ready.

After removing the bridle, they kissed and fondled each other for a while, murmuring to one another--he traced his finger around her nipple and she seemed to laugh softly and touched his face--before he stood and carried her back to their bed. A moment later he had pulled out the silken strands of cloth and was tying her down as she smiled up at him welcomingly. Yes, Weiss had been right. With a shuddery sigh he sank down to sit before the window again, watching only half interested as they only repeated their actions, much more slowly and leisurely this time. They had all the night ahead of them, and so did he.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.