“So tell me, Carol. What is the rush? Why act now?”
“Uh, well, like I said, I’ve had these feelings for a long time and my husband doesn’t—”
“Please don’t lie to me. You aren’t married.”
Her mouth gaped open. How did he know?
“You’re not wearing any rings on your left hand.”
“I-I could’ve removed them,” she pointed out.
Barry shook his head. “You have no tan line on your finger, which tells me you don’t normally wear rings there. Now why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
“I-I can’t. You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Then I suggest you find another Dom. I’d prefer not to get involved in something I don’t understand.”
“No!” The idea she’d have to start over frightened her. She liked this man, even trusted him a bit, if that was possible in her situation.
“All right,” she said. “But you’re not going to believe me and you’ll probably think I’m crazy.”
“Give me the benefit of the doubt,” he said.
Carol took a deep breath and began telling him the strange story of the leprechaun sculpture and its effect on her and her friends, watching his face for signs of derision. To his credit, he listened with rapt attention, eyes registering understanding and a certain amount of disbelief at the same time.
“That’s your story?” he said when she was finished.
“Yes. It’s the truth. I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Strangely enough, I want to believe you, although it’s an impossible story.”
“I know. It’s impossible for me to believe too. For all of us.”
“Give me the phone number of this Suzanne you mentioned.”
That startled her but she gave it to him. Barry rose and went into his office. She could hear the murmur of his voice. He returned in a few minutes and sat down across from her, nodding his head. “She backs you up. Hard to imagine…”
“I wish it weren’t so. I’d give anything to go back to the way we all were.”
“She also said I’d better take good care of you or I’ll have the wrath of your three friends down on me.” He smiled.
She laughed. “Yeah, that’s them. They’re very protective of me.”
“And this O’Grady character, he says you have to act out your fantasy in order to have this curse lifted?”
“Yes.”
“So this is a one-time deal then, right?”
She lowered her eyes. “I hope so.” Would he refuse to help her?
“Very well. I appreciate your honesty. I assume you brought your checkbook?”
Carol looked up, eyes alight. “Yes! Oh thank you!”
He held up a hand. “Don’t thank me yet. I believe if this is going to work, you’ll probably need the full-on treatment, albeit abbreviated.”
“Yes, that would be good,” she said, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. She wrote him a check on the spot, her hand shaking. He took it from her and pocketed it.
“Stand up.”
She did, her nervousness almost causing her to faint.
“Relax.” He stepped close. “You’re perfectly safe. You know that, don’t you?”
“Y-yes, I think so.”
“Good. Remove your clothes.”
She gaped at him. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Her fingers fumbled with her buttons. His eyes never left her—he seemed to be enjoying her discomfort.
“Come on, I don’t have all day.” He reached out and casually slapped her hip.
Carol jumped and began to peel off her clothes more quickly. Her body tingled all over. He stepped back and watched as they came off. It felt strange, being under his control. Intellectually she rebelled but emotionally this was just what she needed.
She paused when she was down to her bra and panties, but when Barry signaled her, she stripped them off as well. She stood there covering herself, embarrassed.
“Come, come, my little submissive, don’t be shy.”
Her hands came away and she felt her skin heat under his gaze. “God,” she breathed. “This is so unlike me.”
“That may be true, but it’s what you need. I can tell.”
She nodded. Was that really what she needed for herself or just to satisfy the leprechaun? Then again, it really didn’t matter. She needed to stop thinking, she told herself.
Barry walked around her, taking in her beauty. Carol watched him, wishing she could cover herself. She felt like a gangly kid, unworthy of his attention.
“Do you understand the nature of the dominant/submissive roles?”
“Yes, sir.” The formal address just came naturally to her.
“And do you see yourself as a submissive?”
“No,” she said at once. Then—“Well, today I do.”
“Ahh, you see, that’s your problem. I believe you’ve always been a submissive—otherwise that would not have been your secret fantasy. But you’ve repressed it to the point that you deny it, even as you stand here naked.”
She could only nod.
“You have to give yourself permission to let go.” He reached out and took her hand. “I realize this is sudden but you set the timetable. Normally we would go slower. Come, I will help you.”
He led her to the stairs. Carol looked up warily, afraid. What lay in store for her up there? A dungeon? Or would he simply take her to his bed and rape her? She tried to resist and he caught her forearm.
“Trust. It’s a difficult concept in this situation, I know. But think of it this way—you paid for the service. What kind of businessman would I be if I harmed my customers?”
She smiled. “Okay. I’m just afraid.”
“Don’t be. I plan on asking you to give a recommendation on my website.” He slipped her a sly grin.
She laughed and allowed him to guide her up the stairs. Her fears abated. He opened a door at the top of the stairs and eased her through it. Carol stopped and stared.
“Oh my god, it is a dungeon!” The room contained whips, chains, restraints and other strange devices that seemed medieval to her. She started to back out.
“Whoa. Relax. You are the most nervous sub I’ve encountered.” He waved his hand at the room. “About ninety percent of this stuff you can ignore. It’s not for you.”
For some reason, Carol felt a frisson of disappointment. Very strange.
“Here,” he said. “Let’s put these on you.” He held padded leather cuffs and began fastening them to her wrists.
Another wave of pleasure and fear ran through her. But she stood still while he buckled them in place then bent to put similar cuffs on her ankles.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to free your inner sub.” He led her to a thick wooden post in the middle of the room. There were rings hanging from the sides, near the top and bottom. He pressed her up against the smooth wood and clicked her cuffs to the rings above her head. He bent down and used short lengths of chain to fasten her ankles to the post. She could move her feet about six inches, no more.
“What are you going to do?” she asked again.
He moved out of her vision and she could hear something being taken down from the wall. Oh god, she thought, he’s going to whip me!
“No! You can’t!”
He came close and showed her what he held in his hand. “Relax, my little sub. This is a suede cat o’nine tails, my softest whip.” He rubbed it against her shoulder. It was soft, but she shivered regardless.
“You can’t,” she whispered.
“Of course I can. Consider it part of your training.”
He stepped back and she heard the whisk of the whip in the air then it struck her. She jumped, although she could tell he hadn’t put much force into it.
“See? It’s merely for focusing the mind.” He struck her again, harder.
The whip warmed her skin and made beads of perspiration appear. She shook her bo
dy and the rings rattled. Carol was trapped, helpless.
Slash! The whip cut across her rump. It stung and then made her hot. Her clit swelled and she could smell her own arousal. How could this be?
“Oh god,” she whimpered. She couldn’t describe her emotions. They swirled and churned within her. But for some reason, she felt a sense of trust with Barry. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Her fears were pushed back and she decided to let go a little and see where this took her.
He began to strike her again and again—not too hard, but hard enough to sting her flesh and raise her temperature. She trembled. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire.
She found herself moving out of her body. She was looking down, seeing this shapely woman being whipped, her skin red and pink. Barry looked so masculine and in control, standing behind her with the whip. Carol watched as the woman began to thrust her ass back to meet the blows. Then she was tipping her hips, trying to expose more of her pussy to him. Fuck her, she told him. She wants it.
Barry stopped suddenly and dropped the whip. She came rushing back into her body, feeling the desire overwhelm her. He grasped her shoulders with both hands. “Tell me,” he gasped. “Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me,” she gasped through her clenched teeth. “Fuck me.”
“Now you’re beginning to understand why women enjoy being the sub,” he said. She heard him behind her, unzipping his pants. She couldn’t wait and pushed her hips out to make it easier for him. He took a few extra seconds to put on a condom and Carol was impatient.
“Just do it!”
He slapped her rump. “You don’t give the orders, remember?”
“Oh god, please.” She waited until he was ready. The tip of his cock touched her wetness and slid inside. An instant tremor rocked her, a mini-orgasm. Carol hung by the cuffs, wishing she were free so she could bend over more and spread her legs in order to feel the full effects of his hard cock.
“Please,” she said.
He slapped her ass again and she shut up, letting him have his way. She wasn’t sure she could come this way, not as if she wanted to. Carol realized this was for his pleasure, not hers. Was that the sub’s duty? Not to be pleasured, only to please?
She had much to learn.
He sped up and she whimpered. His body pressed her against the wood, her breasts and clit felt ignored. She wanted to be pinched and slapped and rubbed until she came—it wouldn’t take much.
Suddenly she felt his cock erupt within her and she cried out in frustration. Another mini-orgasm shuddered through her and she found herself begging.
“Touch my clit! Please touch my clit!”
“No.” He held her close. “You’re not ready.”
He pulled out and she could feel her wetness leak out. Barry pulled off his condom and tossed it in a nearby trash can.
“Please,” she said again.
He came close. “Subs have to learn. Orgasms have to be earned.”
“Oh god.”
He freed her and she was so weak she could barely stand. Her body felt lightweight and sweaty. He wrapped an arm around her and helped her to a bench.
“Rest here for a minute. Then we’ll start again.”
“Oh my god.” All she could think about was an orgasm. Suddenly, she realized, the leprechaun was gone. For the first time in days, her mind was clear.
Chapter Fourteen
Another visit with Peter O’Grady
Carol tried to walk normally as she met Wendy, Suzanne and Diane outside O’Grady’s townhouse at ten o’clock the next morning. After her amazing experience, she still felt aroused, several hours later. Her back and ass still felt warm from the whip and her clit was teased by her underwear, reminding her of her extraordinary experience. There was a red scrape on her cheek from the post that she couldn’t quite cover with makeup.
But she had never felt more alive in her life.
“My god,” said Suzanne. “Look at you! I was so worried—I’m glad you had him call me last night.”
“Who called? What happened?” Wendy butted in.
Suzanne turned to her. “Carol met with a BDSM guy last night.”
“Oh my god!” She put her hand over her mouth. Her eyes gave away her curiosity. “Um, how was it?”
Carol gave her a sly smile. “Pretty good. He was the real thing, that’s for sure,” Carol said, gingerly touching her cheekbone.
“Wow. Did he hurt you?” said Wendy.
“No, I would have to say he didn’t,” she responded, her body still tingling.
“How did you find him?” she asked.
“Online of course. You know, there’s quite a society of Doms and subs in New York.”
“Did he…?” Diane trailed off. Her expression told Carol she thought her question indelicate.
Carol decided to let her off the hook. “Fuck me? Oh yeah,” she said.
“Was it horrible?” Suzanne asked. She knew it was a stupid question as soon as the words left her lips. But Carol’s answer surprised her.
“Actually, it was just what the doctor ordered.” She didn’t want to tell them how she had begged Barry for it and how she wanted more. It wouldn’t sound right to her modern, feminist friends.
“Well, at least you’re all right,” Diane said.
“Yes, and the leprechaun was satisfied. I feel almost normal today. How about the rest of you?”
The others averted her looks. “Uh-oh. That can only mean one thing.”
“Yeah,” admitted Wendy. “But it doesn’t mean we’re still not in sync. I mean, we’ve all succumbed to the wishes of the leprechaun’s curse. So we’re even, right?”
“I hope so,” Carol said. “I’m not sure I want to do this again.” That was a lie. She knew she could see Barry again and give her body completely to him. It thrilled her to think of what demands he might require for her orgasms.
“Well, come on, let’s get rid of this curse,” Suzanne said, and knocked on the door. The same butler opened the door. “Ah, ladies. Mr. O’Grady is expecting you.”
They came in, hope in their hearts, and were led to the library. Peter, as before, waited for them behind his desk.
“Ladies!” he said cheerfully. “Top o’ the morning to ya.”
“Knock it off, O’Grady,” Suzanne said. “We’ve come to get rid of the curse.”
“Please sit down. Tell me what’s happened since yesterday. Especially you, my dear girl,” he said to Carol.
“Oh no, not again,” Diane said. “Can’t we just get on with it? You said we all had to have experienced some of what the leprechaun demanded. Well, we have. So if you don’t mind, we’d like to cut to the chase.”
“That’s not the way it works,” he said evenly, cutting off argument. “Carol, let’s start with you. Do you believe you fulfilled your secret fantasy?”
“Oh yes,” she said. Carol briefly outlined her visit to Barry’s dungeon.
“Hmm. All right. Diane, you seem reluctant to talk. What’s happened since your last visit?”
“Dammit. I don’t like this True Confessions crap.”
“Come on, Diane, let’s just get this over with,” urged Suzanne. “I know O’Grady is getting his rocks off listening to it, but if that’s the price we have to pay to get rid of this curse, so be it.”
“Easy for you to say. All you did was pick up another anonymous fuck. I lost my job yesterday.”
There came a chorus of sympathetic voices. Diane explained as quickly as she could the disaster that occurred when her CEO made advances toward her.
“But you didn’t actually lose your job,” pointed out Wendy.
“No, but the clock is ticking,” she said. “I destroyed my career. Or should I say, that thing destroyed it.” She pointed with a shaking finger to the ugly little statue on Peter’s desk.
“Wendy, your turn.”
“Oh god. I gave in. I went to an escort service and they sent me on four tricks last n
ight.”
She endured another round of shocked responses, followed by much sympathy. She just nodded and folded her arms over her chest. O’Grady, the bastard, made her describe her encounters. She tried to be brief as possible.
“Now you’ve heard our sad stories. Can you fix it before we all die?” Diane demanded.
“I will do my best,” he promised. “I called back to the home country and talked to some of my relatives. They too were surprised by the little guy’s power. They chalked it up to an unusual confluence of events.” He began ticking them off on his fingers. “One, it was a full moon that night, two, you all confessed your deepest, darkest secrets out loud to each other and three, you’re all clearly very close friends. So you all got a double or triple dose of your wishes.”
“Fine, so stop it. Please,” Suzanne said.
“Very well. They told me what I need to do. It’s a little unusual, I admit. But my relatives swear it’s the only way.”
They waited, eyes wary.
“Are you willing to do exactly what I say?”
Four women nodded.
“First, you must all remove every stitch of clothing and put them in a three-foot circle here on the rug.”
“What!? No way!”
“I’m not doing that!”
Peter simply waited them out. “You’re wasting time.”
The friends realized they had little choice, even if the idea seemed crazy. Slowly they began peeling off their clothes, making a crude circle. Bras, blouses, skirts and panties soon littered the floor. They bent over and adjusted the clothes into the desired shape as directed by Peter.
“Good,” he said at last. “Now, get into the circle and face inward, putting your arms around each other. Yes, do it tightly like that.” He was rewarded with a view of four delicious asses, pointing in all directions. He moved around the circle, helping them to adjust arms and feet, making sure they were all even.
“Now let me get my book of incantations.” He went to the shelf and pulled down an old dusty volume. He found the page he needed and approached the women.
“Now close your eyes,” he said, and he began to read in Gaelic.
Tha mi fo ch˜ram a dhiu ro eileadh
Tha mi fo ch˜ram’s fo mhoran tursa.
‘S mo cheist air c˜irteir a’ bhrollaich ghlË-ghil.
Exotika 08 - Private Daydreams Page 9