Amber's Toy Read online

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  Phaze

  www.phaze.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Jude Mason

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  Amber's Toy

  a novella of BDSM erotic romance by

  Jude Mason

  Phaze

  6470A Glenway Avenue, #109

  Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-740-5

  Amber's Toy © 2007 by Jude Mason

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2007 by Debi Lewis

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  Also by Jude Mason

  An Acquired Taste

  Pink Ribbon

  Stage Fright

  Scorpio Tattoo

  Jesse's Homecoming

  413 Remembrance Lane

  Chapter One

  "Come on, ya sissy, down it,” slurred Amber. She sprawled across the bar, one arm extended along it to keep her from falling face first onto the lap of the drunk in front of her. Her skirt was too tight, her blouse too revealing, but success was more important than decency at that moment. She knew he didn't recognize her. Over the past few months, she'd lost a good deal of weight, and her hair was now its natural black where it had been nearly blonde. Her nose was smaller, her eyes were now blue where they had been brown. No, he'd never recognize her. Besides, he never really looked at his conquests; he just used them before moving on to the next.

  She eyed the man, silently urging him to down the amber drink in his highball glass. The dull gray parasite curled around the single ice cube, waiting to warm up and do its job. Tony Jeffers peered at her, his handsome face flushed, his deep, brown eyes unfocused. He smiled a lopsided grin that brought back memories of that night, making her stomach lurch.

  He'd spilled half of his last bourbon down the front of his shirt. It pooled in the crotch of his jeans. In the dim lighting of the bar, she could barely see the dark patch. A liquored stick, she giggled and raised her own half-empty glass before downing it.

  Come on, you bastard, she thought and slumped toward him, her hand inadvertently landing on his wet crotch. She wanted to tighten her fingers, to see if she could make him scream, but she held off. He'd pay soon enough.

  Tony groaned and lifted his glass. Peering into it, he slurred, “Just a lil aphrodike, right?"

  "Yeah, a little something I brought back from South America.” She watched closely, her drunken act forgotten for the moment. The glass rose to his lips and, as only an inebriated man can, he carefully downed the drink. He belched loudly and slammed the empty glass on the bar upside down. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he mumbled, “'Scuse me."

  Amber was elated. Soon the tiny beast would warm up and Tony, the self proclaimed God's gift to women, Jeffers, would be hers. He didn't suspect a thing, and she doubted he had the brains to figure it out, until she told him. And telling him was a big part of her plans. She wanted to see the look on his face when he realized who she was and why she was with him.

  "I gotta go to the john.” He slid off his stool, nearly falling in the process. Leaning forward, he ran his wet lips across her cheek in a sloppy attempt at a kiss then straightened up, all six-feet-four of him. He turned, stumbling as he headed for the men's room. He swayed, bumped into a table, which thankfully was empty, then lunged through the bright red door.

  Amber sighed and turned, facing away from the bar. Leaning back, she felt the edge dig into her spine, just below her shoulder blades. The room was nearly empty—Thursday night and almost closing time, it should be quiet. Most of the chairs had already been piled onto the tables. One other table was occupied, two couples obviously celebrating something. The fireplace had been left to die down, the curtains closed against the chill night air, and the wait staff was mostly gone. Even the music was off. Just the muscle-bound, thirty-something bartender, manning his post behind the long expanse of well-polished wood, ready to offer yet one more round to whoever asked. Amber wouldn't be asking. Neither would Tony.

  A thud from the direction of the men's room, and a soft curse, told her Tony was on his way back. She watched him approach. He really was gorgeous. Those dark eyes and the dimple in his chin would make most women swoon, and probably a good many men. Amber smiled at that thought. Tony didn't swing that way, but that might change very soon. He was built like a swimmer, but with a little more muscle. He also had a nice crop of curly dark chest hair peeking out of the front of his shirt where he'd left the top two buttons unfastened. His jeans were just tight enough to show a hefty bulge where the wet spot spread from his accidental spill. Black loafers and a cowhide vest finished off the picture. If she'd been in the market for a one night stand, he'd definitely qualify.

  Tony wasn't a nice man, though. He used his good looks to get what he wanted, and to hell with the women he hurt in the process. Fresh anger pushed any effects from the alcohol aside. She glared at his drunken swagger. What really pissed her off was even after all he'd done to her, she still wanted him.

  "Hey, sweet cheeks,” he mumbled when he'd plopped down on the stool next to hers. “I'm about drunk out and ready to go. You wanna get lucky?"

  She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder, her mouth an inch from his ear. He smelled of booze and aftershave, a bad combination. “Yeah, come home with me, Tony. I have a new bed I want to break in."

  He chuckled and turned to face her. “You do? Well, lead on, girl.” The smile he gave her made her stomach tighten.

  "Follow me, big boy,” she forced herself to slur and eased off the bar stool, grabbing her small handbag. The skirt was short, her heels were high, and he was a leg man. She knew she had him.

  Tony tossed a handful of bills onto the bar and stumbled after her. Once outside, she waved down a cab and slid into its dark interior. He lurched in after her and settled back in the seat. “Tenth and Alder,” she said to the overweight cabbie, and they were on their way.

  Tony groped for her as soon as the cab pulled away from the curb. She slapped his hands away. “Patience. We'll be at my place in just a few minutes."

  "Want you now,” he mumbled persistently, and pawed at her barely concealed breasts.

  Amber leaned back against the seat and allowed him to roughly caress her. Her nipples perked. Her pussy moistened. Tony's hands slid over her breasts and he pinched each nipple while nuzzling her neck. “Big bed, I hope,” he mumbled as he moved his hands lower.

  She grabbed his hands, refusing to let him go any farther. Thank heaven the ride was short. The cabbie pulled to the curb and put the car in park. “That'll be twelve twenty-five,” he said, and turned to face them.

  Amber dug into her purse and handed him a ten and a five, then reached for the door handle. “Come on, lover,” she said over her shoulder.

  Tony clambered after her. Casting a furtive glance her way,
he rubbed his crotch when he got to his feet. He squirmed then, and got a funny look on his face.

  She smiled and turned on her heel, heading for the door leading to the apartment lobby. “I'm in two-ten.” She flung the door open and sashayed inside. Giving her ass an extra wide swing, she glanced back to be sure he was still trailing behind. He was, and he'd apparently decided fondling himself in public was an acceptable thing. His right hand was busy massaging and pulling at his crotch. She wasn't sure if he was masturbating or trying to reposition himself, but it took every bit of her willpower not to laugh at his antics.

  The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, Tony on her heels. As soon as the doors sighed shut, he reached for her. He pulled her close, his arms going around her, his large hands to her ass. His lips found hers, and the kiss took her breath. He drew her closer, grinding his crotch into her lower belly. His cock pressed hard against her. His tongue flicked across her lips, seeking entrance.

  When the doors sighed open, a few moments later, she eased out of his embrace. In a surprisingly husky voice, she said, “Come on, there's my door.” She raced for the door, eager for the privacy her room promised. Key out, she opened the door quickly and stepped inside. He was there, right with her.

  "Come ‘ere, baby,” he slurred, and again his hands pawed her. He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue running along her tightly clenched lips. With his hands sliding down to cup her ass, he seemed content to grind himself against her. He finally pulled his face away, and looked down at her. “What's a matter?"

  She smiled up at him, trying to gauge the parasite's progress. Tony's eyes seemed to droop a little, but he was still alert and in control. “Nothing, sweetie. I just want to take it a little slower.” She backed away, and reached behind herself for the buttons to her blouse. She watched him closely as she unfastened the buttons and let the blouse balloon forward, the neck gaping wide. Her upper chest felt cool, and her nipples tightened again, anticipating the adventure to come. She trapped the silky material with her arms, and jiggled her breasts back and forth. “You want to follow me now, right?” She backed toward her bedroom door. His eyes glazed over, and she knew the initial excretions of the worm were taking effect.

  Her smile broadened.

  She'd done some volunteer work in South America the year before, just after that final incident with Tony. He'd picked her up, used her like he used all his women, and dropped her. But for her, it had been much more than a weekend fling. Overweight, with a complexion problem that made her large nose the least of her problems, she'd taken his advances to mean he liked her, cared for her. Why else would he have pursued a relationship? With all the beautiful women available, he'd gone after her.

  She found out later that he'd been bored with the beauties, and decided to try a plump, less attractive girl for a change. She'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He'd wined and dined her simply as an alternative to a more comely conquest. And she'd fallen for him—hard.

  Two dates was all it took. Two blissfully wicked nights of pleasure, and he'd stolen her heart—only to crush it on the following Sunday. She'd gathered up all of her courage and driven to his place. Standing at the front door, her heart racing, she'd unfastened the front of her coat, posed naked, and tapped on his door. When he opened it, he'd laughed. When he'd been able to control himself, he'd told her why he'd taken pity on her, why he'd chosen her. And then he'd laughed some more.

  Amber was devastated. While he held his belly, laughing uproariously, she'd fled in utter humiliation. She'd sped home, and later was surprised that she'd actually made it without having an accident. Once there, she took refuge inside, locked her doors and unplugged the phone. How could she ever go out in public? How would she ever be able to show her face again? She'd been such a fool. He'd destroyed her.

  That Monday morning, she called in sick to work. Checking her bank account, she decided flight was the only answer and bought a ticket on the first available flight out of the country that would allow her enough time to get her shots, pack, and take care of any unfinished business. Then, she'd phoned her boss and quit, stating family problems she had to deal with across the country. He'd been sorry to see her go, but understood, and that was that.

  A week later, after volunteering to help at a jungle hospital and after an amazing journey through the Amazon, she began a new life. She'd just begun to enjoy it, learning how to make do with little more than the basics, when the doctor had told her they were taking a trip in-country to a village plagued by some mysterious fever. She'd been thrilled to go with him.

  Unfortunately, their plane had gone down. She was the only survivor. Natives found her wandering in the deep forest, days or weeks later, unhurt but for a broken nose. An elderly medicine woman took her under her wing.

  The worm had been one of the many things Dagwa had shown her from the forest. She'd learned about it from her mother. Seems the women of that particular tribe had found a way to curb their men's adulterous behavior. Stray from the conjugal bed and after one small treatment, the man found himself in constant state of arousal, with little or no means of satisfying himself other than by a sexual practice they thought of as taboo.

  She'd lived with the natives for six months. Dagwa fixed her nose, and to her surprise, it looked much smaller. The natural diet and a sweet-smelling cream that her teacher concocted had also cleared up her acne.

  A survey crew found her, rescued her, and she'd reluctantly left her adopted people to go back to the hospital for another eighteen months. She returned to the village when she could and made amazing friends. When her time was up, she was sorry to leave, but ready for some civilization. The flight home was bittersweet. She'd learned a lot in the jungle and the hospital. Dagwa had taught her to trust herself, to be who she was, no matter what anyone else thought.

  That final talk with the jungle medicine woman reminded her of why she'd fled to the Amazon. Tony, how he'd used her. His uncaring disregard for her, or any women, was like a fire inside—a fire that needed quenching. She had a way to quench it, and perhaps teach him some humility in the process.

  Finding Tony had been easy. A week after her return, she'd begun her search. A few days later, she sat across the table from him. Seducing him had been even easier. Her new looks assured that success.

  And all of it led to this evening, this weekend.

  "Damn, you're a hot one,” he growled. Step by step, he followed her into her bedroom, one hand reaching for her, the other rubbing the crotch of his jeans. His eyes drooped more, and she knew the worm's effects had truly begun.

  "I'm hot for you, Tony.” She smiled and let her top slide down her arms, baring the soft roundness of her breasts. Her nipples ached. She shimmied her shoulders, sending her breasts swaying back and forth. The blouse dropped from her fingers, and she reached for her puckering nips. Pinching and tweaking them, she kept her eyes on the drunken man following her. His face lost some of its firmness, his eyes were more glassy and his hands more desperate around his erection. When the back of her legs touched the bed, she braced herself and asked, “Tony, are you feeling all right?"

  He stopped, eyes widening in surprise. “Uh, yeah.” He suddenly squirmed. “I think.” He reached for the buttons of his shirt, and with trembling hands unfastened them. He was shaking so much; he simply pulled and sent two buttons flipping through the air. Shirt tossed aside, he worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, tugging at them. The button seemed beyond him, but finally he worked it free. A moment later, the zipper whirred down. He flipped his shoes off, and pushed his jeans down. Bright red bikini underpants emerged, scarcely able to contain the huge bulge.

  "My, oh my, but you're in one hell of a hurry,” she teased, but was secretly pleased. She remembered how Dagwa told her about the itch: how it began slowly, but grew to a constant, frustrating annoyance. She knew Tony was at the beginning stage. She'd seen the process. He'd feel an itch, one that persisted, deep in his ass. The worm had thawed and traveled t
o its new home, deep in the man's rectum. The only way to neutralize it was to massage it with the juice of a peach-like fruit, found only in the Amazon jungle—or with the cream Dagwa had taught her to make.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him strip the last of his clothing off. He really was a magnificent specimen of manhood: wide chest, a six-pack of rippling muscles, tight muscular thighs, and a beautifully thick cock that she remembered fondly as having a slight curve to the right.

  "Now aren't you a pretty sight,” she whispered. Still partially dressed, she spread her stocking-covered legs just wide enough to ensure he got a glimpse of the pale flesh above the dark band. His eyes flickered down, then back up to her breasts. He seemed confused, and she loved it. “Got an itch, baby?” she teased, holding out a hand.

  He took a step forward, which brought his erection right to the palm of her hand. Deftly she folded her fingers around the warm, hard flesh and felt him pulse. Easing her fist toward his belly, she watched a tiny droplet of clear liquid form at the tip.

  "Yeah, an itch that needs scratchin',” he growled.

  "You don't know the half of it.” She smirked and reached for his testicles with her free hand. Soft, smooth flesh, with a sprinkling of hair tickled her wrist as she caressed his balls. Masturbating him, she quickly found the rhythm he seemed to like the best and smiled when his hips lunged back and forth.

  "Whatdya mean? I don't know the half of what?” Tony's voice was hard, but his body continued to thrust into her hand.

  "Why don't we play a game?” she suggested, releasing him. She scooted to the head of the bed and reached into the drawer in the side-table. Searching, she found the fur-lined cuffs and pulled them out. Holding them toward him, she knew they looked innocent with the soft rabbit fur lining.

  The smile he gave her sent a shiver up her spine. “You want me to cuff you?” he asked, incredulously. His cock twitched.