by Eden Bradley
She’d never been so nervous and so simultaneously turned on in her life.
She stood by the window in her living room, looking out as the fog drifted across the night sky. There was no moon tonight to illuminate the streets below. She knew the city was still there, as endlessly busy as always, yet she felt entirely insulated from the bustle and the life there. The anticipation of the night ahead made her feel separate from everyday life, from other people, from everyone but him.
Shaye.
Her heart gave a good, hard thud when he rang the bell. It was time.
She opened the door. God, he looked too good in his dark leather trench coat. She took a deep breath, took in the earthy scent of the leather along with the warm, woodsy scent of Shaye himself.
“Are you ready, little Devin?”
Oh, he knew perfectly well what it did to her when he called her that.
He held out a hand to her and she took it. His fingers curled around hers possessively and immediately her sex went warm and liquid. She nodded her head—she couldn’t speak.
How was it possible that she felt as though her mind was sinking into that dark, warm place already? Into subspace, Shaye had told her it was called. But she gave herself over to it. To him, as he pulled her through the door, took care to lock it behind them before they rode the old elevator down. The moldy scent of the Paris catacombs smelled like sex to her tonight. Or maybe it was Shaye standing next to her, a protective arm around her waist.
He put her carefully into the car, his shining BMW that felt like pure luxury inside. But even sexier than his sleek car was his profile as he drove. His dark goatee made him look like the devil himself tonight.
They were silent as the car glided over the rough San Francisco streets, up onto Nob Hill, one of the most exclusive sections in the city. The quaint Victorians gave way there to mansions done in every architectural style, each one more grand than the next.
Shaye downshifted and turned onto a narrow side street. She watched the way his hand caressed the gear shift, remembered with a shiver of desire how that hand had felt on her skin, between her legs…
“We’re here, Devin. Are you ready? Do you remember everything I told you?”
She looked up to see high, wrought-iron gates sliding back soundlessly in front of the car. So enormous. So stately. Her throat went dry. But when Shaye reached over and smoothed his fingers over the back of her hand she calmed.
“Okay?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Yes. I’m okay. I’m ready.”
“I haven’t kissed you tonight,” he said, inexplicably.
“No.”
“I want to. But I can’t trust myself with you. I need to be absolutely in command in order to be here. I don’t want you to think I don’t want you. I want you too much, maybe. Do you understand?”
“I…I think so.”
“I’ll kiss you senseless later, I promise.”
She dared to glance over at him, saw a small grin on his face, smiled at him.
“Okay?” he asked her again.
“Yes. Okay.”
He took his hand back, gunned the engine and drove through the gates.
The house, if one could even call it that, was beautiful. Four stories of brick, with graceful white columns. A wide staircase that led to an imposing pair of doors flanked by uniformed attendants. Magnificent. The place reminded her of the antebellum mansions in the South. But there was something more Gothic about it, more New Orleans Garden District.
Shaye stopped the car in front and a valet opened Devin’s door for her, helped her out and handed her to Shaye. She was shaking all over with fear of what might lie ahead, but just as much with excitement.
He laid a hand on the back of her neck, leaned in and said quietly, “Here we go, Devin. Quiet now.”
He led her up the stairs, her heels clicking on the steps. Marble, she thought, glancing down.
One of the doormen greeted Shaye. “Good evening, Mr. Vincent.”
“Evening, Julian.”
The doorman swung open the heavy front door and they stepped into a foyer. Two naked and collared women stood in front of them. They approached Devin and immediately began to undress her. Panic flooded her.
“Shaye?”
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re to be naked tonight, remember? And you must be silent.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, tilted her chin and brushed a quick, hot kiss over her cheek. “Be good, Devin. There is no room for error here, in this place. You must follow the rules. Do as I say. Tell me you understand, and do it right.”
Yes, don’t speak.
She nodded her head, somehow comforted by knowing she’d done it correctly. By having rules to follow in this strange place. Rules to fall into. It made it easier somehow.
The two girls had stripped her bare, removed her shoes, and Shaye’s hand was on the back of her neck again, squeezing.
“Head down, yes, that’s good. And clasp your hands behind your back. Come.”
She followed him, feeling more naked than she ever had in her life, with her clasped hands making her back arch, her breasts thrusting forward. The idea of what she was doing in this place was overwhelming, yet again she was comforted by knowing what was expected of her, by being able to let go of control and simply do as she was told. And her sex was as hot and damp as it had ever been, her nipples two stiff and aching peaks.
He led her through another pair of doors and she was hit by a wall of sensation: music, voices, the scent of expensive perfume and even more expensive scotch. All she could see was the smooth marble floor beneath her bare feet as Shaye led her into what must have been the center of the room, to a spot where a large circle of gleaming black broke the expanse of white marble. He took her to the very middle and had her stand on a pattern of gold stars set into the floor.
“Down, Devin.”
His voice was commanding, his hand on the back of her neck exerting a gentle pressure. She went right down. Gave herself over to the sinking sensation as her knees hit the hard, cool floor. Her mind emptied out as though a stopper had been pulled. All she could do was breathe in, breathe out, and wait to do whatever he wanted her to. Automatically, she assumed the position he had told her would be required of her tonight: knees spread, back arched, palms face up on her thighs. She kept her head down, her gaze on the floor.
She was dimly aware of a hush settling over the room, of a crowd of people pressing in. The music faded, went silent. Her head was absolutely spinning, fear and the keenest, most thrilling edge she’d ever experienced in her life warring within her. And yet, she knew she was in exactly the right place.
Then Shaye’s voice, deep and formal, ringing in the enormous room. “I present Devin to Sanctuary.”
A pause, and then the jarring sound of applause made her tremble as he lifted her chin and said quietly, “Head up now, little Devin, so everyone can see how beautiful you are.”
God, to look at the faces of the people around her! It was thrilling and terrifying all at once. To be so objectified. And yet an electrifying tremor of excitement ran through her, charging her system with energy, with a deep, stabbing need. With pure pleasure.
It was a few moments before she could catch her breath. Then she was able to focus a bit, to take in the scene around her.
Other submissives—slaves, she supposed—naked and on their knees, as she was. Beautiful, all of them. An expanse of naked flesh, gleaming eyes, parted lips. Yes, to be one of them! She envied their collars, made of leather, chrome, heavy chain. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. The others, their masters and mistresses, were clothed, but she couldn’t really pay them any attention. She was too intrigued by these mirrors of her own yielding need.
Slowly, she came to realize the crowd had closed in, that people were talking about her.
“She’s a lovely girl, Shaye. Spectacular breasts.”
“Beautiful. Love her red hair.”
“Wherever did you find one so innocent? Yet look at
the way she goes down on her knees as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. She’s meant for this.”
“You’ll have to let me get my hands on her someday, eh, Shaye?”
Her head was spinning. And then they began to touch her. Shocking, even though he’d told her to expect it. Hands on her thighs, her shoulders, touching her hair. When a woman pried her lips open with her fingers, then her teeth, she gasped, but Shaye was quick to lay a reassuring hand on her head. “Shh, Devin. Just take it. You can do it.”
Yes, anything for him, even this humiliation. She would think later about the small part of her that loved it.
More hands on her, her nipples peaking hard as someone lifted and weighed her breasts. Then a low, female voice.
“Time for the real test, don’t you think, Shaye?”
“The honor is yours, Alana.”
Devin was surrounded by a faint cloud of perfume, dark and spicy, then a woman’s soft fingers slipped between her thighs and slid right into her wet heat.
Her breath came out on a soft ‘oh’. She didn’t dare move, but her body shook all over. With shock, with desire.
The woman’s voice again. “Perfect.”
Then those same soft fingers lifting her chin. She stared into a pair of sharp blue eyes set into a lovely, feminine face with high cheekbones, full scarlet lips. The face of a woman of perhaps a well-held fifty.
The woman—Alana—said, “You are a little beauty, aren’t you? I approve. He’d be wise to collar you quickly.” She smiled, released Devin’s chin.
Collar me?
Oh, yes!
She wasn’t quite sure she understood what that meant. To be owned, yes, but what else?
Suddenly she couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else touching her. And as though he could read her thoughts Shaye laid a hand on the back of her neck once more. She knew it was him, knew his sure, warm touch. Her muscles let loose again and she relaxed into his hand.
“Up now, Devin, and we’ll watch a scene together.”
She rose to her feet, a little dizzy, and Shaye steadied her. Was this really happening?
He led her across the floor. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, her head down, but still she caught glimpses of high, arched doorways, a fleur-de-lis pattern on the cream-and-gold wallpaper, enormous, ornately gilded mirrors, gorgeous antique furniture everywhere.
They went through a wide hallway and into another marble-floored room. Shaye sat down on a low, velvet-covered love seat and she knew enough to settle to her knees at his feet. He leaned over her, his large hand snaking around her neck. “Good girl. Watch now, Devin.”
His hand drifted down, caressed her breast, and her nipple came up rock hard. A small, wicked laugh and a sharp pinch from him before he withdrew his hand and settled back into his chair. She wanted to cry, suddenly, so keen was her need for his touch. She pulled in a deep breath, commanded herself to calm.
The lights dimmed and then went brighter at one end of the room, which was set up as a kind of stage. Against a backdrop of an enormous marble fireplace, the mantle intricately carved, was a high, padded bench. Strapped to it was a young woman on her back with long waves of pale blonde hair. She had a tiny, delicate waist, large, full breasts. Devin ached just looking at her, shivered at the sight of the black leather gag across her mouth, stretching the woman’s lips. She didn’t know if the sight frightened her or made her want to be up there, to be that girl, displayed and subjugated before the crowd.
God.
Another naked woman stood to one side, a beautiful girl with dark, tawny skin and close-cut curling hair. She had the large, dark, luminous eyes of a doe. The beautiful and imposing Alana stood over the blonde on the table. She seemed to be entirely focused on her, to have blocked out the crowd as she stroked the girl’s body with her hands. Devin could see the blonde’s nipples swell, felt her own sex swell in response. Then Alana picked up a small bristle brush from a tray offered by the darker girl and began to run it over the blonde’s skin, which quickly turned pink. Devin could imagine what the brush must feel like, how it would bring the blood to the surface of the skin.
She watched as Alana drew the brush harder over the girl’s body: her breasts, stomach, thighs, until the blonde was gasping and writhing on the table. Alana stopped.
The other girl came to the table once more, a tall pillar candle in her hands, the flame flickering gently. Alana took the candle, nodded, and the girl retreated. She played with the candle for several minutes, swirling the melted wax as it pooled in the center. She bent over the blonde, whispered something to her, and Devin saw her nod. Alana held the candle over her prone body. Devin’s heart clutched, then tumbled in her chest as Alana spilled a small pool of wax onto the girl’s stomach. She arched, moaned. There was a small flutter of sound from the audience. Shaye’s hand flexed on her shoulder.
“Watch now, Devin. This is something I’ll do to you some day.”
A prickle of delighted fear at that lovely threat.
Yes, anything for you.
She meant it, knew it down deep. How was it possible, with a man she’d known for only a matter of weeks? But she trusted him utterly, more than any man she’d ever known. How else could she be there with him?
She watched as Alana paused a moment, holding the candle aloft, then let a stream of melted wax fall onto the blonde’s breasts. This time the girl yelped and came up off the table, her body arching hard.
Devin scooted closer to Shaye’s leg, her blood pounding in her veins. Excitement coursed through her. She wanted that pain, wanted to feel what this woman was feeling. And the need itself frightened her.
Seeming to sense her panic, Shaye pulled Devin up and into his lap. She looked into his eyes and saw the desire there, the excitement that matched her own. And beneath her naked bottom she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing into her flesh.
God, to have him inside her now, even here, in front of all these people…
“Does this excite you, Devin?” he asked her quietly, his mouth so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath.
She nodded, her mouth too dry to answer.
“Watch. There’s more to come.”
She stayed in his lap, her body buzzing with lust at the solid feel of him, at his dizzying scent, at the scene going on before them like some sort of wickedly sensual theater. She swore she could smell the sweet, pungent scent of Shaye’s excitement.
She needed him to touch her, to play her, to give her pain. She needed to please him, to show him how much she wanted this one thing. A soft little moan escaped her.
“I feel your need,” he told her. “Do you feel mine?”
He shifted his hips, pressed his hard cock closer into her flesh. Steel hard, and she swore she could feel him throbbing even through the fabric of his slacks. She closed her eyes and let that strong pulse reverberate through her system.
Please…
“We’ll go now,” he said suddenly.
Go? She wanted to cry, to demand of him why they were leaving so soon. She’d been sure he would play with her here, in this amazing place, in this sanctuary of the sensually deviant. Yes, some part of her still viewed it that way, but it only made what they did more alluring.
He lifted her from his lap, stood beside her. He whispered into her hair, “I have to get you out of here, Devin, before I lose all semblance of control. I need to take you someplace where I can touch you, where I can have you all to myself.”
The disappointment blooming in her chest shifted, heated, until her sex was pulsing, her breasts aching. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to leave, as fascinating as this place was to her.
She kept her head down, her eyes averted, her hands clasped demurely behind her back. Funny to think of any of this as “demure.” Naked and under Shaye’s command as she was, she was as eager as a cat in heat.
They reached the foyer and the two slave girls quickly dressed her again, but she hardly noticed. All she could think about
were his words: “touch you…have you all to myself.” Yes, that’s exactly what she craved.
Shaye took her outside, one strong arm around her waist as they waited for the valet to bring his car.
During the silent drive he kept a hand on her thigh when he wasn’t busy shifting. She couldn’t stop the faint trembling in her body. She was too excited—beyond excited, really. Even though Shaye hadn’t played her at Sanctuary, even though she’d been little more than an observer, she felt as she did after he’d spanked her, made her come. Light-headed, exhilarated. Shocked at how submissive she felt simply being naked, being told to kneel. How much more submissive she felt just being in those surroundings, as though allowing other people to know made it more true, somehow.
They arrived at her apartment and he slid the little BMW into a rare open parking space, made her sit in the car while he went around the other side to help her out. He didn’t take his hands off her as they rode the old elevator up. She thought he might kiss her in there. Wanted him to. But he just looked at her with that intense gaze of his, his eyes holding a golden glow, like dark honey lit from within.
Once in her apartment she stood just inside the entrance while Shaye took off his trench coat and dropped it over the back of a chair. She felt unable to move of her own accord, as though she needed his touch to guide her. And she was shivering all over with desire, with the exquisite anticipation of what he might do to her.
He came to her, and just as he had that first night, he backed her up against the door. But this time he simply stood and pressed the solid planes of his body against hers. Gripping her shoulders almost painfully, he looked hard into her eyes. His gaze was dark, searching her face before darting down to her mouth. He licked his lower lip and she thought he’d kiss her, but his gaze moved back to hers and his hands slid gently up to her face. He stroked her cheeks, her lips, her throat.
The intensity in his eyes confused her. And his tender touch made her heart throb in her chest, made her yearn even more for him to kiss her.
Leaning in a fraction of an inch, his breath was warm and sweet on her face. Her lips parted in invitation, her pulse a low, insistent throb.