Haven Of Obedience
Page 13
As the brunette continued to moan, a young tutor stepped forward from the shadows and silently removed the nipple clamps so that her nipples were finally free. As the blood rushed into them, forcing them into hard little points, the girl gave a scream. Once again it was difficult for Natalie to tell whether the cry was one of pleasure or pain.
Rob was completely lost in his own rhythm now. He moved around inside the girl’s secret opening, rubbing the incredibly sensitive walls of her rectum with his invading cock while at the same time his right hand manipulated the soft, moist flesh between her thighs until she became half-delirious with pleasure.
Natalie felt suddenly afraid for the girl, afraid that she’d forget what she had to do. But the brunette had – finally – learned her lesson. ‘Please may I come now?’ she gasped, as her body tightened and the soft, pink flush of arousal spread over her chest and throat.
Rob pressed his mouth against her ear. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. And, to Natalie’s astonishment, as the brunette climaxed with a loud scream of ecstasy so too did she. Sharp shards of pleasure pierced through Natalie’s pubic mound and up through her lower belly, while her breasts swelled and her nipples throbbed. She climaxed without any warning: her body shook violently, just as the brunette’s did as she quivered from head to foot. The sound of her handcuffs rattling against the beam only served to emphasise her position of total subservience.
Natalie’s climax ended before the brunette’s. She watched the other girl’s final spasms of release while Simon stood behind her, his hands on her hips. She could feel his erection hard against her buttocks and realised that he knew what had happened to her. She should have been ashamed, but she wasn’t: she felt liberated and all her fear had vanished.
‘In a week’s time that will be you,’ Simon whispered. ‘What’s more, it won’t be Rob standing behind you. It will be me.’
Natalie didn’t answer him. But his words conjured up a vision of such dark, exciting eroticism that she wondered how she was going to get through the next week.
As the brunette slumped in exhaustion and Rob started to unfasten her bonds, Simon guided Natalie out of the room. ‘I think you’ve seen enough,’ he said, his voice expressionless. ‘It’s time for you to pack now. We’ll see you again next Friday night. You don’t have to stay for the talk since you’re visiting us again.’
Natalie turned to him, longing to hear something more, something that would show her she was special. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say to me?’
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘Don’t forget that you have to pay for next weekend before you leave or they won’t let you back in.’
His words shattered her. She’d been so sure that he, like she, would be personally looking forward to the next Sunday, that regarding it as a commercial transaction seemed like sacrilege. But there was nothing she could do about it.
Whether he meant it or not, he’d obviously decided that this was how he intended to play it. If there really was anything more between them than the normal relationship between tutor and pupil at The Haven then, clearly, it was going to be up to her to prove it on her next visit.
Chapter Twelve
‘NICE WEEKEND?’ NATALIE’S SECRETARY asked her as she arrived at her office the following morning.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, after a short pause for reflection.
‘Did you do anything special?’
Remembering the basement, Natalie wondered what Grace would say if she told her the truth. The scenes she’d witnessed there had certainly been special, but not in the way that her secretary meant. ‘I had a weekend break in the country, that’s all.’
‘Well, that’s different,’ said Grace brightly. ‘These days you seem to spend most of your weekends working, judging from the amount of typing I get given on a Monday morning. Does this mean you haven’t got anything for me at the moment?’
‘It does,’ confirmed Natalie.
She wished that she could stop thinking about the tethered brunette, and the way her body had quivered and shaken as Rob had forced her pleasure to explode. That image, together with the one of the bound man on the bed, was still etched incredibly clearly on her mind. ‘I’ll take my post through with me,’ she said, making an effort to get herself back into the mood for work. ‘Any important calls yet?’
‘Only one from Sara, reminding you that at eleven o’clock today you’re seeing that freelance journalist she recommended.’
Natalie frowned. ‘I don’t remember having an appointment to see any freelance journalist today’
‘It was arranged on Friday afternoon, just before you left.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Sam Tudor.’
‘Oh.’ For one moment Natalie had nurtured the ridiculous hope that it might be Simon who was coming to see her. But then she realised how silly she was being. He was hardly likely to be interested in working for her when he’d made it clear how much he disliked dominating women, either at work or in the bedroom.
For the next hour and a half Natalie made endless phone calls as she started to pull together the articles she wanted for the next issue of the magazine. Then, far too soon, her phone buzzed.
‘Yes?’
‘Sam Tudor’s here to see you,’ said Grace.
‘Show him in,’ said Natalie, wondering why she was seeing the man in the first place. Sara must have told her that he was good, otherwise she certainly wouldn’t have bothered. But she had no recollection of their conversation. Presumably her weekend away had wiped it from her mind.
As the door opened she glanced up. For a moment she thought that her heart had stopped when she saw Simon framed in the doorway.
‘Mr Tudor?’ she asked.
‘That’s right.’
‘Please sit down. That will be all, thank you, Grace. Oh, perhaps you’d be kind enough to bring us some coffee.’
‘I’d prefer tea,’ said Simon.
‘A coffee for me and a tea for Mr Tudor.’ Natalie’s voice was icy.
‘You don’t look very pleased to see me,’ remarked Simon, glancing around her office.
‘I was expecting to see a Sam Tudor. That’s not your real name, is it?’
‘No, my real name’s Simon Ellis.’
‘Then why are you calling yourself Sam Tudor?’
‘Because I knew when Sara got me this interview that you were coming for two weekends at The Haven. I figured that you might not be too anxious to see me again, and I wanted to have a chance to show you my work.’
‘I imagine your work’s good. It must be if Sara recommends you. She’s very fussy.’
Simon nodded. ‘She certainly is.’
‘Meaning?’
He shrugged. ‘Nothing special.’
‘Is your relationship with her personal as well as professional?’
Simon smiled. ‘You know perfectly well that’s not a question I can answer.’
‘You mean she got to know you through The Haven?’ Natalie couldn’t disguise her astonishment. Of all the women that she knew, Sara Lyons was the biggest control freak she’d ever met. The thought of her subjugating herself to a man – any man – was incredible.
‘I didn’t say that,’ said Simon.
‘You didn’t have to. Anyway, what makes you think that you could write for my magazine? I wouldn’t have thought you understood the problems facing highflying businesswomen.’
‘On the contrary, because of my work at The Haven I understand their problems very well.’
‘I hope you’re not writing about The Haven!’ exclaimed Natalie.
‘Of course not. But I indirectly use some of the things I learn there in my articles.’
‘Have you brought one with you?’ asked Natalie, as Grace brought in their tea and coffee.
‘Sure. It’s called “Women Divided”.’
Natalie waited for Grace to leave before continuing the conversation. ‘It feels strange, talking to you like this,’ she confessed.
‘Not to
me. Perhaps it’s because it’s difficult for you to feel quite as superior as you normally do when you remember how I’ve seen you. You mustn’t let it worry you. My work there and my journalism are completely separate.’
‘No, they’re not,’ retorted Natalie. ‘You’ve already said that you use The Haven to provide you with facts for your articles.’
‘Look, I knew this was going to be difficult for both of us,’ said Simon. ‘If you’d rather I went, then that’s fine. None of this was my idea in the first place. Sara fixed the meeting up without telling me. By the time I got to hear of it, it was too late. I couldn’t think of a good reason to turn down the chance of working for such a prestigious magazine.’
‘I take it you’re being sarcastic,’ said Natalie.
‘Not at all. Your magazine’s one of the big success stories of the year. I’d genuinely love to write for it.’
Natalie wished that she was as relaxed about the interview as Simon appeared to be. The trouble was, he was right. She couldn’t get the memory of the things that he’d seen her doing, and the control that he had over her, out of her mind. She felt as though she was sitting naked in front of him, and that made it extremely difficult for her to remain in her business mode.
Running her eyes over the article that he’d handed her she could see why he had said that his work at The Haven had influenced it. It was an extremely well written piece on the personal struggle between political correctness and their true desires that powerful women faced.
‘It’s very good,’ she said at last, raising her eyes and looking directly at Simon.
‘But?’
‘But what?’
‘I can tell that there’s a “but”. What’s the problem?’
‘I don’t really think it’s suitable for my magazine.’
‘Now that’s interesting,’ said Simon thoughtfully. ‘I wonder, could you spare me a few minutes to explain why?’
Natalie wanted him to go, but she lacked the courage to say so. He was behaving very well, and his request wasn’t an unreasonable one. It was her answer that was unreasonable, and she knew it. ‘I’m a bit pushed for time,’ she hedged.
Simon’s face became shuttered. ‘I see,’ he said shortly, getting to his feet. ‘Okay, thank you for seeing me.’
‘Wait,’ exclaimed Natalie.
‘What is it?’
‘I should explain why. Sit down for a moment, please. Anyway, you haven’t finished the tea that you wanted so badly.’
Simon picked up his cup. ‘What’s the problem with the article, then?’
‘It’s too chauvinistic. I don’t have a problem with men writing for the magazine. In fact, I’ve used several. But they have to be more in tune with the way our readers feel.’
‘I am in tune with the way your readers feel. I see them every weekend at The Haven. Do you really think that if you don’t publish this article it becomes untrue?’
Natalie felt very awkward. ‘No, I know it’s true. What I don’t know is how our readers would react to it. I think they’d feel betrayed.’
‘Betrayed by who?’
‘By the magazine, of course. This isn’t what we’re about.’
‘I thought you were about the problems faced by successful businesswomen. Well, this is one of them. They’re not happy because they don’t dare express their true desires.’
‘I’ve never had an article about explicit sex in my magazine,’ Natalie confessed.
‘It isn’t about explicit sex. It’s about relationships and the kind of relationships that your readers crave.’
‘Would you mind leaving it with me?’ Natalie suggested. ‘I’d like a little more time to think this over.’
‘Sure, that’s no problem.’
‘I’ll be seeing you next Friday, I can tell you then.’
‘Certainly not,’ said Simon abruptly. ‘The type of relationship we have at The Haven would be very difficult to sustain if you arrived telling me whether or not you’re willing to become my employer, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so,’ she confessed. Secretly she’d hoped that he’d agree, for the very reason that he’d disagreed. It would have given her a small advantage over him, something to help her through the humiliations that she guessed lay ahead of her.
‘If you don’t want it, don’t bother returning it. Just let me know,’ said Simon.
‘I’ll decide by Wednesday,’ promised Natalie.
‘Well, thank you very much for seeing me. I’m sorry about the deception, but I was right, wasn’t I? You wouldn’t have seen me if I’d given my real name.’
‘Didn’t Sara use your real name?’
‘Yes, she must have done. Of course, at the time it wouldn’t have meant anything to you. When I rang to confirm a time I used “Sam Tudor”.’
‘And you won’t have a problem working for me if I do take the article?’
‘No problem at all. I’m good at my job and you’re good at yours. That’s all that matters in this business.’
‘Fine,’ said Natalie, getting to her feet and holding out her hand. ‘Grace will show you out.’
‘Yes,’ said Simon. Then he smiled. ‘Grace doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s ever going to need to come to The Haven. Is she available, or in a relationship?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ lied Natalie. In fact, she knew that Grace had recently split with her boyfriend but she had no intention of letting Simon know. The very thought of him asking Grace out for a meal was enough to make her feel jealous. If she had her way, the only person from the magazine he’d ever date would be the owner and editor.
Simon’s visit unsettled Natalie and she found it extremely difficult to concentrate on her work for the rest of the day. In the end she gave it up as a bad job and left at five o’clock, taking Simon’s article with her.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Grace.
‘I’m fine – a little tired, that’s all. I’m taking some work home with me.’
‘Could I see the article that Sam Tudor left?’
‘No, I’m sorry,’ said Natalie. ‘That’s part of the work I’m taking home with me.’
‘I’d like to see it tomorrow.’
‘Why the interest? Haven’t you got enough to be getting on with? I must be slipping if you’re short of work.’
‘It isn’t that,’ laughed Grace. ‘We’re going out for a meal tomorrow night and I thought it would be nice if I knew what his article was like.’
‘He asked you out?’
Grace looked taken aback by Natalie’s tone. ‘Yes. Is there any reason why he shouldn’t have done?’
Natalie forced herself to smile. ‘Of course not. I didn’t think he was your type, that’s all.’
‘I thought he was drop-dead gorgeous,’ confessed Grace.
‘He’s rather chauvinistic.’
‘Really?’ Grace’s eyes gleamed. ‘That’ll make a nice change. I must admit, secretly I’m not too keen on the New Age man. I know I should be. At first I like them, sure, but then they bore me. Of course, it’s different for you.’
‘Why is it different for me?’
‘Well, you don’t need protecting,’ explained Grace. ‘I wish I was more like you, but I’m not.’
‘Just because he’s a chauvinist it doesn’t mean he’ll protect you,’ snapped Natalie. ‘It’s far more likely that he’ll exploit you.’
‘We’re only going out for a meal,’ said Grace quietly. ‘I can’t think how he can exploit me at a restaurant. At least he seems the sort who’ll pay the bill, which makes a nice change.’
‘What was John like?’ asked Natalie curiously, pleased that she’d managed to remember the name of Grace’s previous boyfriend.
‘Oh, definitely New Age man.’
Natalie looked thoughtfully at her secretary. ‘Do you think our magazine’s relevant to your life, Grace?’
‘In so far as it’s relevant to anyone’s.’
Natalie was astonished by the girl’s answer
. ‘What are you trying to say?’
Grace looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not criticising it at all. I think it’s a great magazine, and obviously it wouldn’t have done so well if loads of other women didn’t agree with me. But although everything it tells us is fine in theory, it isn’t always the same in practice.’
‘But we talk about the problems that women like us face. Surely one of those is chauvinistic men?’
‘I suppose it depends on your definition of chauvinistic.’
‘Yes, I think you’re right,’ agreed Natalie. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
All the way home she seethed with anger, unable to believe that Simon could fancy Grace. Not that Grace wasn’t attractive – she was – but she was completely unsophisticated and would present him with no challenge at all. In any case, if Simon felt the same about Natalie as she felt about him then she couldn’t believe that he’d be asking anyone else out at this stage. All in all, his visit to the office had totally ruined her day, a day that hadn’t been particularly great to start with.
By the Wednesday, Natalie knew that she had to publish Simon’s article. It was a very good one: clever, incisive and bound to provoke a reaction, which was important. However, he wasn’t nearly as pleased as she’d expected when she rang and told him.
‘That’s great,’ he said casually.
‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’
There was silence for a moment. ‘What am I meant to say?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose I thought you’d be more pleased.’
‘It isn’t the first time I’ve had an article published in a magazine. Of course, I’m very pleased that you feel it’s good enough for your magazine. There, is that what you wanted to hear?’
‘I didn’t want to hear anything in particular,’ snapped Natalie, slamming the phone down.
The rest of the week dragged by. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, she found herself once more driving through the Sussex lanes to The Haven. This time she was, if anything, even more nervous than on her first visit. Then she’d been ignorant of what lay ahead of her, now she wasn’t. She knew that not only was she going to be tested more severely than the first time, she was also going to finish up in the basement, providing a lesson for other clients to watch and learn from.