Neil Burns (Neilcroy)
[ffdesc]For those who like the rare Lara/Bryce ship. Enjoy and all comments and illustrations welcome.[/ffdesc]
[ffstory]It was a glorious morning and the sun was a golden orange orb rising and smiling over the Surrey
countryside and on a certain Manor. Bryce woke from a long, restful sleep and attempted to stretch,
but found that his arms seemed to be held in a crucifix position. He also noticed that something seemed
to be blocking his mouth. He looked in the mirrored wall in front of him and saw that he was only wearing
a thong and that his arms and hands were strapped to a bar hanging horizontally. His ankles were strapped
to a bar attached to the ground and a ball gag blocked his mouth from making any articulate sounds. 'What
the bloody hell is going on Why am I only wearing a thong? What kind of perverse game is this!'
"Good morning, Bryce." That familiar posh-accented alto. 'Lara! Dear GOD! Don't tell me she's into this!'
Bryce turned and saw Lara leainging against the wall, one foot on it and her arms folded. She sported a skintight
purple rubber dress that fell just inches below the pantyline and hugged every luscious curve. Long black rubber
gloves sheathed her arms and hands and thigh-length black stiletto boots shod her feet. Her chestnut mane
cascaded over her shoulders and down her back while a Russian officer's cap completed the ensemble and her lips
were curved int a smile that was one of sadness mixed with canary-eating cat smugness.
"I went to a fetish club last night," she breezed while getting off the wall and walking slowly to her helpless employee,
her heels clicking against the floor, "where I got to punish some very naughty little boys. I seem to have another
naughty little boy or two to discipline."
She stopped right in front of Bryce, who struggled and tried to protest, but the ball gag made communicating rather
difficult. She placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, giving it a not-quite-so-gentle squeeze.
"I walked in to find the telly still on and it was on the Anime Channel. You were lying on the sofa, talking in your sleep.
Saying stuff like something being 'a total clusterfuck'? and 'Thank God Lara doesn't know'. Thank God I don't know what,
'Oh, SHIT! I am so screwed!' Bryce panicked as Lara walked to the wall and entered a code on the keypad. A portion of
the wall opened and the tech's eyes bulged seeing a vast collection of whips, cat-o-nine tails and paddles. 'God, no! Please,
Lara! Don't do it!' Bryce struggled and pleaded through the ball gag. The Tomb Raider merely smiled, pitying his plight but
not willing to let the transgression slide. She picked out a white paddle enladen with rounded iron studs, then walked back
while swinging it a bit like it was a tennis racket until she stood in front of Bryce, her sad yet predatory smile growing a few
"Thank God I don't know what, Bryce?" the rubber-clad Raider queried while slowly gliding the edge of the paddle down
Bryce's bare chest. "That you allowed Chase and Alex access to the tropy room so they could "loan out" my collection to
various museums? That you were paid a handsome sum for your assistance?"
She stopped at the family jewels, which she gently patted with her hand. She then slowly walked around behind Bryce and
began gliding the side of the paddle down the back.
"That the Dagger of Xian was auctioned off and that the new owner, thank God, only wants it for their collection and not
for world domination? That the Dagger and the other artifacts taken were replaced by forgeries? Very high quality fakes,
mind you, but still fakes, nonetheless."
She stopped at the buttocks and gently patted them with the paddle before walking around to the tech's right and wrapping
a friendly arm around his shoulders, stroking the back of his head.
"Bryce, Bryce, Bryce," Lara cooed sympathetically. "Surely, you don't think I'm that stupid, do you? I've been in this game
since I was sixteen and I'm thirty-four, thirty-five next Valentines Day. That's nineteen years, love. I think I should be able
to tell a forgery, no matter how high quality, and the 'Real McCoy', as the Americans say. Thank God Alex and Chase, at least,
had the moral deceny not to let the more dangerous artifacts out into the world."
Lara walked back around to her tech's rear and again started gliding the paddle down his spine as he struggled helplessly and
made muffled pleas for mercy.
"I'm worried about you, Bryce." her soft voice and gentle tone belied the hurt, the sadness and the anger she felt inside her
heart at the violation of her trust by her employee and her friend. "This is the second time you have allowed money to influence
your actions to my detriment. I am afraid that Chase and Alex are starting to become a corrupt influence on you. That they are
trying to turn you into a self-centered money-loving wanker like they are and I can't and I won't allow that so I must purge the
greed from you. Please forgive me. I am only doing this for your own good."
Suddenly, pain exploded up Bryce's spine as the paddle slammed against his nearly exposed backside, followed by several more
such brutal assaults. His eyes began to mist up.
"I am sorry, Bryce. This hurts me more than it hurts you."
'Oh, that is BULLSHIT! Let me whack you in the arse a hundred times and then tell me that!' Lara attacked the reddening ass
again and again and again, with increasing fury and intensity.
"Damn you, Bryce!" she growled. "Why! You are not materialistic! Not money hungry! You don't give a DAMN about anything but
your bloody trailer and your stupid arse games! Why! Why did you help them!"
As the tech moaned helplessly and struggled futilely, he could have sworn he had heard a slight sob in his employer's voice
"We have known each other since we were zygotes, Bryce! We are family! Families protect and look after each other! They trust
each other and they are there for each other in good times and bad times! They don't betray them! They don't sell each other out
just for a fucking payday! Is that it why, Bryce? For money? Am I not paying you enough?!"
Suddenly, Lara stopped paddling Bryce, somewhat tired from the effort and walked to the keypad and punched in the combination
to open the panel so she could put the paddle back. Wiping away tears that had formed during the punishment, Lara walked back
with a pillow and blanket. She placed the pillow on the flloor right below Bryce and the blanket just off to the side. She removed the
ball gag from Bryce's mouth, throwing it off to the side, then wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair.
"What the bloody FUCK was that, Lara!" Bryce almost sobbed. "What the bloody CHRIST are you playing at!"
Lara said nothing as she released Bryce from his bindings and lowered him into the pillow and knelt next to him, wrapping the
blanket around him and supporting his weight.
"Well," he smiled acidly. "I do hope you good a fucking good giggle out of this. You want to play Miss Bondage Queen, by all means.
Knock yourself out. Just bloody keep me well out of it."
"No, Bryce," the Tomb Raider almost whispered. "I didn't get a good giggle out of this. In fact, I took absolutely no pleasure in
punishing you at all."
"You'll forgive me if me and my arse think otherwise."
Lara cupped her hands behind Bryce's head and planted a soft, yet firm kiss on his lips before pressing her forehead against
his, looking him in the eye.
"You are a good person, Bryce. You have this sweet innocence and you're like a six-year-old on Christmas whenever a new
toy comes out. Nothing at all like Chase Carver and Alex West. I like them, but the problem is that they only see dollar signs
and are only concerned with the next big payday. You ever see the cartoon where the character's eyes become dollar
signs and you hear the ching of a cash register in the background."
"And you think that I would become like them. Only concerned with money and sod all to everything else."
"I do. Money isn't everything, Bryce. I grew up with it. Every wish and desire granted and, as a result, I was perhaps the
biggest brat know to man. Of course, Father wanted me to marry a prominent groom to bring honor to the Croft name."
"Until his death in Cambodia and the plane crash nixed those plans," Bryce replied. "Your point?"
"Money didn't help me when I was in that plane crash. It didn't help me when Mother disappeared or when Daddy died
in Cambodia. It didn't help me when I had to trudge eight hundred miles, eating whatever to survie, until I found shelter
in that temple I found. Money isn't the be all end all. It pays the bills and provides temporary material comfort, but love
and friendship is more important."
"Says she who has very little of both," Bryce quipped.
Lara removed her head from against his forehead and stroked his hair.
"Tell you what," she purred. "Lunch and a day on the town. What do you say? My shout."
"It'll take a LOT more than that to make me forget what just happened, Croft."
At that moment, Zip entered holding a cellphone with a wide, knowing grin.
"Sorry to interrupt your 'session, Mistress," he chuckled, "but a certain American wants to talk to you."
"Oh, his initials make the best root beer. A&W."\
"Alex West." Lara smiled dryly.
"Oi!" Bryce interjected. "Tell that Yank to fuck off."
"Bryce!" the Tomb Raider lightly tapped his nose in mock affront. "Be nice. Zip. Could you please
inform Mr. West that I will be busy all day and that I'll try to call him back another time, if ever."
"You got it," Zip nodded, putting the cellphone to his ear. "Yo, Al! Boss Lady is tied up right now,"
Bryce gave Zip the "British two-finger salute" at that. "Can she get you back? Right. Okay." Zip
"Well, Al will holla back another time and, Bryce? He says right back at ya. Have fun, kids. Don't do anything I
wouldn't do. Or would."
He left, not saying another word as Lara's mouth curved into a predatory smile as she kissed Bryce's cheek.
"Well. Where were we?"
ta-daa. hope we like. enjoy and please comment. take care.