Four Erotic Series Collection: Bounds Of Passion, Sexed Up/Tied Down, Spectacular Stranger, The Proposition

by Lucia Jordan

  The glittery and yet subtle black dress fit her a little tighter than she ordinarily have liked, but she supposed it was part and parcel of the BDSM club uniform, and wasn’t sure if a dress code would include her usual attire. The dress clung to her breasts and hips like some sort of silken embrace.

  Lydia checked her hair and makeup a final time, her hands shaking a little as she dabbed Vaseline on her lips.

  Try and relax, woman, she told herself. He’s not put you in danger before, and I doubt he will now. She trotted over the landing in her heels and descended the stairway to find Jack Riding waiting for her, pacing the doorway. His grey dress suit had a subtle hint of black pinstripe in it, as if subconsciously matching her own dark dress. He was not wearing a tie with his black shirt.

  “Lovely,” he said uncertainly as she got to the foot of the stairs. “Very appropriate,” he nodded and Lydia felt slightly put out. “Ready?” and the two of them got into the waiting car, which sped off into the night.

  “So, where exactly are we going?” she asked, watching the London scenery, lights and tourists flash past.

  “I’d rather not disclose the exact location, until you are a member,” Jack said curtly. Lydia looked out of the window. It was a disappointing answer, but then, Jack seemed more on edge than usual – was there more to this club than he was letting on?

  The black car finally pulled up outside another row of terraces – this part of London Lydia had never been to before, but she recognised it as being around the NW1 area, and tried to get her bearings.

  “Have I been here before?” she asked.

  “Possilby,” he answered. “It is a popular area of the city, after all. However, if you do realise where you are, please refrain from announcing it to the world – I don’t want to have you silenced,” he looked at her sternly and Lydia wondered if he was joking.

  Jack trotted up the steps to the large black door of one of the houses. He rang the bell once, twice, three times and looked impatient that it was not answered immediately. After several moments, a man answered the door. He was wearing the plainest black suit Lydia had ever seen and looked incredibly bored.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” he sighed.

  “John Riding and partner,” Jack said without batting an eyelid. Lydia looked at him. John?

  “And why are you here, ringing my bell, exactly?” the man at the door answered as if considering reporting them to the police.

  “We’re here for the night” Jack snapped, as if the conversation was not worth his time. The bored-looking man nodded and opened the door just wide enough for Jack and Lydia to squeeze through individually. The young woman was tempted to reach for the hand of her dom, but something about the nature of the building, the doorman’s attitude and Jack’s responses told her she had to be on her best submissive behaviour. As they were shown in, she whispered to him:

  “John?”

  “It’s my legal name… Jack is short for John,” he explained, looking amused at her question.

  “Then why not be John all the time?” she murmured as she hung up her coat in the communal wardrobe. Lydia noticed there was an array of fur and other expensive coats hanging there.

  “Because I’m not John. I’m Jack, and always have been,” came the answer, and their whispers were interrupted by a piercing laugh from somewhere in the house.

  Looking around, Lydia saw that the inside of the house was dark, compared to Jack’s light, minimalist, modern home. On the floor, polished wooden floorboards were covered in rugs that had seen many feet – they were worn to patches in several places and Lydia thought they looked rather shabby and unkempt. She wanted to leave.

  “This way, if you please,” the man bowed slightly and led them through a room to the right of the hall. Lydia stepped into a surprisingly large room, around the size of Jack’s lower floor, and she wondered if the house was simply three terraces all knocked together to form one large residence, only accessible from the central door. It seemed likely, and she made a note to ask Jack about it later. The room was oval shaped, with as many different kinds of chairs as one could imagine spread about, leaving a circle of seating-free space in the centre, like a makeshift amphitheatre.

  This theatre of sorts was full of people, who turned to check out the latest arrivals into the fold. Lydia saw there were people of all descriptions. Many of them, like Lydia and Jack were wearing suits and dresses as though off to the West End, or for a delicious meal. Some, on the other hand, had draped themselves over the leather armchairs; chaise lounges and dining chairs in jeans and shirts that looked a little worse for wear. Lydia wondered how they had got past the man at the door. Looking further about, Lydia could see that one of two couples were wearing constricting and tight-looking leather and PVC outfits. They left very little to the imagination, and Lydia’s eyes widened as she noticed one woman was completely naked.

  Jack gave her a little gentle push on the small of her back, and Lydia’s feet started walking mechanically, allowing herself to be steered by the man. As the two of them wandered into the room, Jack led the way to a powder-blue, vacant chaise lounge. Lydia saw several pairs of eager and curious eyes skating over their bodies, with more than a twinkle in some eyes directed at Jack.

  Chapter Three

  So how often does he come here? Lydia wondered as she settled on the long, soft, sofa-like chair. How many of these women has he… her thoughts trailed off unpleasantly, making her stomach churn. She knew that jack prided himself on ‘breaking in’ new people to ‘his world’; the world of BDSM, so there was no way she was going to be his first, of last anything. It was a sad and distressing thought, and she wondered how many others had shared his bed the way she did last night. She forced a smile onto her face as Jack frowned at her.

  “You look sick,” he said in little more than a whisper.

  “Just nervous, I’ll be alright,” she murmured back. “There are a lot of people… I’m not a big fan of being stared at,” and she took a glass of champagne that the suited man was offering round. Jack did the same.

  “Yes, but the audience is a necessity,” he explained. “Without it, this would be a mere peep-show. Instead, we are here to learn, to see and to gain,” he said gently, taking her hand in his. “We are observers tonight.”

  “Tonight? So you usually..?” the question was out before she could stop herself, and she raised a hand to her lips as though she could force the words back in.

  “Participate?” Jack stared in the middle distance and took a long sip of his drink. “I have on occasion – ” Jack’s answer was interrupted by seven massive, resonating claps that stilled conversation and raised expectation. In the centre of the room, a small woman in a red dress was standing atop a chair, gaining attention. The drinkers and audience-makers gave her their full attention and she smiled with a heavily lipsticked mouth.

  “Ladies, gentlemen, doms, subs, pets and others, welcome,” she said in a loud, clear voice. There was a strange accent to it that Lydia could not place. “Tonight is a night of patience, obedience and contract. It has been decided by myself that the safeword tonight is Umbrella,” she looked at each guest, checking they understood what that meant. “As always, there are those reluctant to play a part either due to instructions, disgrace or indifference. Those who refuse will not be pursued,” she said slowly, allowing the message to sink in. “It was drawn in last week’s ballot that the initiator of the games tonight will be our friend Mr. John Riding,” she looked straight at Jack with a grin and Lydia’s world lurched. Jack’s face, however, remained emotionless.

  “Umbrella,” he said in such a bored voice Lydia wasn’t even sure he had spoken. She looked at him and his mouth twitched the tiniest amount, as the lady in the red dress turned away from him as though he had disappeared.

  “The ballot’s draw calls Nick Greenwood to initiate the games,” she briskly turned to a tall, blonde man who sat alone.

  “Really? Well, in that case,” he stood and removed his suit
jacket, “On with the show,” he replied in a northern accent. The woman clapped once again and Nick entered the empty circle. His eyes roamed the audience as if undressing them all, one by one. Lydia spotted the naked woman having her cunt stroked by the man she was sitting next to and wondered if Jack was about to do the same to her.

  “You,” Nick pointed at a young woman with flaming red hair. She looked at the man she was sitting next to, who nodded and pushed her lightly towards the stage. She stood, smiling and went to stand in front of Nick, her skirt sashaying as she walked. Nick nodded and ordered the woman to undress. As she did so, playing to her audience by turning her de-robing into a striptease, Nick went to a large box on the edge of the stage and took out several solid restraints. He also indicated to a man that he would like a large pommel-horse style table moving to the centre of the stage. This was all complete by the time the young woman turned around, displaying her pale bottom with its peachy flesh to the world.

  “Her name is Jenny,” Jack whispered to Lydia, who jumped slightly as the sound of his voice. She was becoming aroused by the image of the naked young woman, and more so when Nick hurriedly removed his own clothes and knelt to lock Jenny’s feet into a solid restraint bar, similar to one she had been locked into only days ago.

  “Ours are much better quality,” Jack nodded at the restraint bar and sat up to see a little better as jenny was encouraged to rest her stomach against the green, padded bench. The redhead was leant over just enough for the audience to see a glimpse of her pink sex, but not enough… Lydia heard sexual moans coming from the people around her, and she wondered how many were wanking themselves and each other over this beautiful, submissive woman. Nick tied Jenny’s hands down, so she was well and truly stuck bent over, and then looked into the audience again.

  “You,” he said, pointing to a tall, spiky-haired woman, who rose with a grin. There was a murmur of approval in the audience, and Lydia felt a thrill of something she had not experienced before.

  “Her name is Moira,” Jack said, tracing Lydia’s ear with his nose. “She is a dominant woman, but chooses to be submissive occasionally, for the right partner,” he put his arm around Lydia who felt as if she could melt pressed against him.

  Moira flung off her skater dress to reveal a PVC bra and panties set. There was a strangeness to her underwear, and Lydia wondered what it could be until Nick approached Moira with a dildo in his hand and clicked it into the attachment on the front of Moira’s crotch.

  Lydia’s mind was blown away by the image of this tall, sensual and beautiful woman, whose breasts fought against their PVC trappings, now equipped with a cock longer than any mans, and wide enough to make any woman squeal.

  “As you will,” Nick gestured towards Jenny and Moira walked towards the prone young woman and promptly smacked her across the legs with the false cock. Jenny squealed and raised her bottom in the air, asking for more. Moira struck her again with the prosthesis, thrusting her hips to complete the movement. Lydia felt a new wetness spring from her, and she longed to be part of the scene, if only for a moment. As if sensing her need, Jack pressed a cupped hand onto her crotch and squeezed, pleasuring Lydia’s clitoris just as Moira took hold of the dildo and got ready to enter the bucking young woman’s open and wet cunt.

  Chapter Four

  Lydia gasped out loud as Moira slipped inside the woman, inch by inch. Jenny moaned and bucked her hips as the cock stretched her out and widened her sex beyond what a natural dick could do. It took a few minutes, but at last Moira’s false cock was deeply buried inside Jenny. Then, she began to fuck her. Slow, deliberate strokes at first, and then the speed picked up, making the red-haired woman gasp and plead for release on her clit. Moira kindly reached around to touch it and Jenny squealed with pleasure again. Then, before the climax could come, Moira withdrew her weapon and stood back so show the audience just how open, how wide the submissive woman was.

  Nick, who had been observing up to this point, pointed to another man who nearly fell over in his eagerness to get to the stage. Jenny was helped to a standing position by Moira and Nick, and then held still as Nick slipped effortlessly into her open cunt from behind. The second man, whose crew-cut shone in the glow of the lamps, had only just kicked off his clothing before he, too, entered the woman. Jenny’s cunt was so open, so deep from Moira’s cock that two real ones slipped inside her easily. She moaned as the two men moved together inside her, and seemed to have no trouble gaining pleasure from this double penetration.

  Lydia was wet, pulsing and hot with desire. She had never seen anything like it, and was fascinated. She would have gladly traded places with the red-haired woman. Jack seemed to sense her need, and pulled her open his lap, fiddled with his trouser fly and hiked up her skirt.

  “What-” she started to say, before noticing that all around them, the audience were fucking each other to one degree or another, and that only a few people were still intently watching Jenny being fucked by two cocks at once.

  She raised herself up and pierced herself on Jack’s cock, taking in all of him at once. He moaned softly in her ear, and Lydia kept her eyes on the trembling, groaning Jenny, matching her movements to those of her partners’, imagining the stretch, the feeling of being so full of those two men, what must it be like? Lydia rode Jack hard, his hand pinching her nipples to frozen raspberry peaks, painfully twisting them so she fucked him harder in response. She had no shame.

  Jenny’s legs began to tremble, and Lydia knew the woman was close to her climax. If she could, she wanted to come with her, to feel, by proxy, the fullness of having two inside her rather than one-in the same passage, their dicks rubbing together; their heads touching in some sort of secret kiss reserved only for double penetration. Lydia fingered her own clit and felt her cunt contract as Jenny moaned and writhed against her joint partners, whose ejaculations splattered over the floor as Jenny’s cunt was filled to overflowing.

  Lydia orgasmed silently, feeling Jack biting her shoulder through her dress, and realising he had come, too. There was a stillness to the room, now. The fucking had stopped.

  How many orgasms just happened here? Lydia wondered, looking at the dishevelled hair, the red faces and Jenny being released from her restraints and high-fived by Moira, still wearing the imposing-looking prick. Lydia turned her head and felt Jack kissing her neck.

  How did this become my life? She thought, and smiled as she remembered what Jack had said…

  “You are changed already…” Well, he was right, and she wouldn’t dream of going back now.

  Book 4: Bound Forever

  Chapter One

  Lydia had spent the last few days debating with herself. She had had the month of a lifetime with Jack Riding, and still her mind was in a whirl. She had had sex in public, been spanked and whipped until she bled, been ordered to walk around all day with a vibrating bullet inside her and been chained to almost every object in Jack’s house. And then had come the event, two nights ago. She had been bound, mercilessly, to a St Andrew’s Cross and Jack was selecting further tools from the display on the wall of the room.

  It was an assortment of whips, canes, chains, straps, paddles and more. The man with the dark blonde hair and deep blue eyes had his back to Lydia when he said:

  “How would you feel about losing the restraints, tonight?” It was a question designed to sound aloof, but it came across as though he had practiced it many times in the mirror before asking it aloud to his submissive woman.

  Lydia’s hands and feet were spread-eagled to hold her legs and body open, but she lifted her head and frowned at Jack’s muscular back. “I’m sorry?” she said.

  “I’ve been considering,” he went on, “allowing you time to forget the power of the restraints, for a while, and using only my voice to discipline you,” he turned and gazed at the young woman, whose flesh was so on display.

  “Whatever you want,” she replied, feeling this was the right answer. Jack’s face softened slightly and his mouth twitched.
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  “Good,” he said, walking towards her. “I think we might use the White Room, tonight.”

  “The White Room?” Lydia shifted her weight as her ankle straps were undone. Jack’s blonde hair brushed her sex as he knelt to unbuckle her.

  “I… keep it for special occasions,” Jack said, standing back for Lydia to wrap the pale grey Kimono he had bought her around herself. She stood uncertainly, as if waiting to be told more, and then followed with a frown as Jack lead the way over the landing, to the attic-latch, which he pulled down easily to reveal a small retractable staircase.

  “Up there?” she asked, trying to see what the final, secret room of Jack’s house contained.

  “Yes,” he said, putting one shoeless foot on the first stair. “You will come?” he started to ascend and Lydia felt she had little choice but to walk up after him into the gloom. Luckily, the attic room had some sort of sensor lighting that glowed into life as Jack reached the top of the steps. Lydia reached the top quickly, and her bare feet touched the amazingly soft carpet first, then her eyes adjusted to the light and she saw the beauty of the White Room.

  It was aptly named, for everything in the room was either white, cream or very pale shades that seemed to disappear if you didn’t concentrate on them for long enough. There was a sense of calm about the attic room – unlike the deep blue room where Lydia had experienced so much pain, sensory deprivation and pleasure. She looked about her, taking in the bed covered in soft white throws and furs; the sheer white walls with empty pictures frames hanging upon it; the white chest of drawers that seemed to have walked straight tout of the Regency era. It was a room is tranquillity, and yet the way Jack was staring at her… She looked at him, questioningly and he took a deep breath.

  “I am, as you are aware, a dominant man,” he said matter-of-factly. “And the room you have previously experienced is the one I inhabit for all but a few moments in my life… that when I change my role, from dominant to submissive,” he looked at her to gauge her reaction, and Lydia’s mouth opened in surprise.