Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica

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Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica Page 11

by Maria Isabel Pita


  She gets up and quickly clears the table wishing she could do the same with her feelings, which are totally obsessed with Jay. When she lets her reason compare them, however, it tells her that she should want Will, that he is a better person, and that he won’t hurt her in the end like Jay probably will.

  The phone rings again as she is rinsing out her wineglass.

  She quickly dries her hands and hurries back out into the living room to answer it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ It is Jay’s cool, even tone.

  ‘I just finished washing the dishes.’

  ‘I want you to put on some black bikini panties and a pair of high heels, nothing else.’

  ‘But…’ She really is tired.

  ‘I’ll be there in one minute.’

  ‘One minute?’

  ‘Be ready.’

  She barely has time to brush out her hair, put on some eyeliner, strip off her housedress, change her panties, and slip on some black high-heels before she hears him knock on the door.

  Sage is already sitting in front of it, and waiting impatiently for her to open it.

  Jay steps inside carrying a small black leather bag. He is wearing a black T-shirt tucked into tight black jeans, and his sudden, forceful presence in her small living room has the effect of a shadow falling over her mind that mysteriously eclipses her will. She is barely aware of closing the door behind him before he grips one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and leads her towards the bedroom. She has no choice but to follow him obediently, closing that door behind him as well.

  ‘Stand right here,’ he says, ‘and put your hands behind your back.’

  His tone tells her that she had better do it right, the way he taught her to. She is facing away from him, but she hears him unzip his bag.

  ‘Hold still,’ he commands, and ties her arms behind her.

  His skill – how swiftly he does it, and the fact that the ropes don’t bother her even though she can’t move her arms at all when he is finished – impresses her.

  He falls to one knee beside her and stretches a white rope taut between her ankles, so she can’t spread her legs any farther.

  The fact that she is completely helpless now excites her so much Will slips out of her mind as her body starts secreting the warm juices on which her ability to think straight slips dangerously.

  Jay pulls something else out of his bag. ‘Have you ever worn these before, Carmen?’

  ‘No.’ And she doesn’t want to now.

  He rubs one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger until it is long and firm. ‘You have great nipples, Carmen, they’re just begging for attention, and these will give it to them.’

  The clamps don’t bother her as he puts them on, not until he lets them close and they cling viciously to her nipples.

  She gasps in pain, and looks down at the small black rubber jaws joined by a silver chain that hangs loosely between them. She is sure she won’t be able to stand them for very long, yet how good her breasts look, and how intensely aware of them she is now, mysteriously takes the edge off the discomfort, so that she bites her lip instead of begging him to take them off.

  ‘You took those better than I thought you would,’ he remarks. ‘You feel them between your legs, don’t you, baby?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admits reluctantly, because they really do hurt.

  He bends over to pull something else out of his bag. ‘Have you ever felt one of these?’

  ‘No.’

  He smiles briefly. ‘It’s a riding crop.’ He grabs her arm and pulls her over to the bed. She has to take mincing steps in order not to fall. ‘Keep your legs straight, bend over, and bury your face in the mattress. We don’t want your neighbors calling the police.’

  She isn’t ready for more pain; it’s too soon, yet she has no choice but to obey him.

  She expects to feel the black leather crop on her bottom, or across the back of her thighs, so when it hits her directly between the legs she literally bites the comforter as her breath catches in shock and she swallows a scream of agony.

  The firm black leather tongue brutally licks her sensitive vulva again, and its third tormenting kiss blows her mind like no orgasm ever has. ‘Stop!’ she screams. ‘Oh, God, stop!’ She braces herself for another blow, which blessedly doesn’t come.

  He pulls on her hair, forcing her to stand up straight again. ‘Kneel,’ he commands.

  She quickly obeys him as he seats himself on the bed in front of her.

  ‘Obviously,’ he unzips his jeans with one hand while grabbing her hair again with the other, ‘you want me to gag you.’ He isn’t wearing underpants, so it is easy for him to pull her head down into his lap and thrust his erection up into her mouth. ‘You have great lips, Carmen, and I’m going to teach you how to use them. You can’t use your hands this time. Take my whole dick into your mouth, pressing down on it with your lips… that’s it, just like that. And I’d better not feel your teeth, not unless I tell you I want to. Mm…’

  She feels him throw his head back, and loves that she can make him breathless, that just her lips and her tongue can please him so much.

  ‘Now just suck on the head… a little lower…’ He leans back on his arms. ‘Right there…’

  She can’t understand why kneeling on the floor with her arms and ankles bound, a metal chain dangling from her aching nipples and a man’s stiff penis in her mouth, excites her so much, but it definitely does. She can almost feel the warmth radiating from her wet cunt it turns her on so much.

  ‘Now move your lips down slowly… oh yeah, I’ll make a good little cock sucker out of you yet.’

  She takes his erection as far into her mouth as she can, pushing her tongue hard up against it. She is getting better at controlling her gag reflex. In fact, her throat deliberately seeks the caress of his helmet. She is getting addicted to the excruciating sensation.

  It seems all too soon when he lifts her head off him and helps her stand up again. ‘Lie on the bed, on your back.’

  She collapses awkwardly onto her bound arms.

  Kneeling on the mattress beside her, he easily drags her slender body all the way up onto it. ‘Keep your legs spread. You’re never to cross your legs in my presence unless I tell you to, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You’re happy I came over tonight, aren’t you, Carmen?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir.’ She gazes worshipfully up at his hard, beautiful face.

  ‘Yes, you are glad,’ he thrusts two fingers hard into her cunt and holds them there, his thumb resting lightly on her clitoris, ‘but you won’t really be happy until I fill all your holes, baby. You know I’m right, so don’t pretend. You won’t be satisfied until you have three dicks inside you, Carmen, one in your mouth, one in your ass, and one in this hot little snatch.’ He looks her straight in the eye when he says this, and she can’t look away as his stare seems to penetrate straight through to her soul again.

  ‘You see,’ he rewards her with a smile that affects her like a caress, ‘you’re ready to come all over my hand just thinking about it. But you can’t come, not until I tell you to. From now on you’ll need my permission to come. When you’re further along in your training you won’t even want to come until I tell you to, and you’ll be able to come on command, just from listening to my voice, and you’ll come like you never have before, Carmen, like you can’t even imagine coming.’

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in order not to climax around his fingers, and his firm statements.

  He asks quietly, ‘Do you like being held on the edge like this, Carmen?’

  She whimpers and shakes her head, begging him to let her body ride the wave of pleasure his willpower alone succeeds in damning.

  ‘Don’t come, baby,’ he warns gently, ‘I’ll have to punish you severely if you come before I tell you to.’

  No man has ever handled her clitoris with such knowledgeable precision, and as casually as he would any other
part of her body.

  ‘Are you ready to come, baby?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  He withdraws his fingers abruptly, and slaps her throbbing cunt with his open palm. ‘Yes?’ he asks coldly.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He slaps her vulva three more times, hard and fast, and her back arches as she cries out and flings her head from side to side as if to deny the inconceivable fact that she loves it.

  ‘That made you break out in a nice sweat,’ he observes.

  She looks up at him again breathlessly, the look in her eyes as confused and devoted as a wild animal’s.

  ‘Did you like having your pussy slapped, Carmen?’ He returns her intense gaze with a perfectly cool, controlled stare.

  It hurt so much she can’t possibly have liked it, yet she isn’t gagged, and she doesn’t hear herself denying it.

  He rewards her with another brief smile. ‘I’m being very easy on you, Carmen. I realize you’re a B&D virgin, so I’m taking it slow. You’ve only received the barest glance of my attention. Right now, I’m just testing your limits and getting to know your body.’ He caresses one of her breasts, cupping it and squeezing it gently, then runs his hand along her curving body down to one of her smooth thighs. ‘You’re beautiful; very well made.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she whispers.

  ‘Would you like me to fuck you now?’

  She does her best not to sound too eager. ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to. I want you on a slow burn. You’re going to be hot for me every minute of every day, and all night, every night. I’m leaving now, and you’re not going to come. I’ll know if you came when I see you again – I’ll be able to tell.’ His cool gray stare feels like a sword thrust between her heartbeats, interfering with her breathing. ‘I’m going to make you crazy, Carmen,’ he promises softly. ‘You’re not going to be able to think about anything else.’

  She thinks of Will, and of all the betraying marks on her body, and closes her eyes as she sighs, ‘Yes, sir…’

  *

  In her dream her body was young and firm as the first summer fruits, so it seemed only natural to be on the ground on her back, winded from the fall, and gasping in pain beneath the big hard worm burrowing relentlessly into the tight space between her thighs. She had hated it and she had loved it, and then the ships had come. She was to blame of course; it was the punishment for her sin. The fire in her blood was responsible for the ones that burned all night long, and when the human wolves poured into the house and tore her out of her mother’s arms, she had known she deserved it. But God should not have punished everyone else, and she felt so guilty about this that she was glad only strangers huddled around her on the boat slicing across the silver water of dawn as it moved swiftly away from the smoking shore. Very soon there had been nothing left but the sword’s edge of the horizon, which cut straight through her heart with the knowledge that she would never see her family again. Her stomach had been as empty, and her hope as dead, as the darkest day of winter when she looked again towards the tall blonde man standing at the head of the ship. As she watched, he shot a flaming arrow into the mist that mysteriously slipped between her heartbeats and killed who she had been, awakening her to another self that suddenly didn’t feel sad anymore, just intensely hungry, and alive.

  Chapter Six

  Carmen hits the snooze button and sinks back into sleep with both arms wrapped around her feather pillow, determined to hold on to it.

  She continues to fight the clock for another eighteen minutes until, if she resists just one more minute, she will definitely be late for work.

  She heaves herself up out of the bed where she slept alone.

  She enters the shadowy cave of Seaside’s waiting room feeling so sensually relaxed that coming to work seems like a dream.

  ‘Good morning,’ Louise says automatically.

  ‘Mm, yes.’

  ‘Sounds like you had a nice weekend.’

  ‘Yeah. How was yours?’

  ‘It was all right, nothing special.’

  Feeling smug, Carmen follows the current of routine to her desk like a mermaid planning to perch on her rock for a few hours and smooth out her tangled feelings. Jay’s kinky bait has her firmly hooked, and now he is patiently reeling her in, enjoying her emotional struggle against a new, and often painful, element.

  The first thing she does is check Mike’s schedule for the day. He doesn’t have any meetings, which makes her nervous. It means he will be in the office, and she isn’t sure whether or not they will be having lunch together. The truth is that he probably won’t even remember asking her. She had read so much into his casual suggestion, yet now she is sure (in the rational light of day, a Monday morning no less) that he hadn’t meant anything by it at all.

  Relaxed by this reasoning, she quickly takes care of her tasks before sitting down to enjoy her coffee.

  She has just logged on to the Internet, intending to find out more about D.E.R.M., when Mike shows up looking particularly handsome in a pitch-black suit.

  She quickly switches on her star field screen-saver. ‘Good morning, Mike.’ She gets up to pour him some coffee.

  ‘Good morning, Carmen.’

  His sleeve brushes her bare arm as they pass each other. There seems to be a great deal of static stored up in Seaside’s lush carpeting, because the subliminal purr of an electric current passes between them again.

  Pouring his coffee, she wonders if he felt it too. Probably not, since he was wearing a jacket and shirt, and men are not as sensitive. They don’t notice all the little things women do, and make too much of.

  ‘The phones have been dead this morning,’ she says as she walks into his office and sets the Styrofoam cup down on his desk. For the first time since she began working for him, she wonders why he doesn’t invest in a mug and minimize his contribution to pollution and global warming.

  ‘Good,’ he answers shortly, ‘I have a lot to get caught up on. I’m only here if it’s an emergency.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Oh, Carmen?’

  She pauses in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are we still on for lunch?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Let’s make it a little later, around one o’clock?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Get Beatrice to cover for you.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ She returns to her desk, sits down, and stares at the stars streaming towards her at the reckless speed of desire.

  By the time Mike is ready to go, she is starving. Every other appetite is temporarily dormant; all she cares about is getting some food in her stomach. Her metabolism is relentless. If she doesn’t nourish herself at regular intervals, she is susceptible to painfully intense hunger.

  Mike walks out of his office. ‘Ready?’ He has abandoned both jacket and tie and consequently looks more relaxed.

  ‘Yes.’ She snatches up her purse. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I thought I’d leave that up to you.’

  She is ready to eat almost anything, which makes it nearly impossible for her to decide where she wants to go. She is deep in thought as they walk side by side down the long corridor to the elevators, and still thinking hard, she steps ahead of him into the empty car.

  ‘Well,’ he says, ‘what would you like to eat?’

  ‘Anything, I’m easy.’

  ‘You must have a favorite cuisine.’ He fishes his car keys out of one of his deep pants’ pockets. ‘Italian? Chinese?’ He stares at the doors as if he can make the elevator move faster by sheer force of will.

  ‘Somewhere close by.’

  ‘The cafeteria?’

  ‘Not that close.’

  ‘Just pick a place, Carmen,’ he sounds impatient with the sluggish technology he suffers everyday, or with her, ‘somewhere nice.’

  ‘Somewhere nice?’ she repeats, buying time as they cross the lobby. She doesn’t want him to spend too much money on her. ‘Well, how about Justo Pasta? That’s a
nice place. I’m mostly familiar with the Gables.’

  He holds the glass door open for her. ‘If you’re in the mood for Italian, how about Café Abracci?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Is something wrong, Carmen?’ he asks without looking at her. ‘You sound annoyed.’

  ‘Oh, no, I’m just starving.’

  ‘Well then I’d better feed you before you bite my head off.’ He unlocks the passenger side of a red Porsche, and smiles at her as she lowers herself into the tight, hot space. The temperature outside is ideal, but the south Florida sun has been attempting to germinate this glass and metal seed for hours.

  He slips in beside her, starts the engine and the air conditioner, and backs out of his parking space all in one swift, practiced motion.

  She follows his example and doesn’t bother with the seat-belt. She is feeling guilty enough as it is without pulling a black strap across her chest and calling attention to her cleavage in the low-cut red shirt she deliberately chose this morning when going through her clothes. The fine material clings to her like dry blood, and her black skirt is even shorter when she sits down. Fortunately, she wore black hose with her ankle-high boots, so her thighs aren’t completely exposed along with the weaknesses in her character. She knows the man beside her is married, and that he signs her paycheck every week and that the thoughts she is entertaining about him are wrong as well as foolish, yet a predatory part of her doesn’t give a damn. All she feels is excitement. She knows she is out of control, she knows it as clearly as she knows Mike is driving way too fast through a residential area, and that she has no desire to tell him to do the right thing and slow down. She is glad he isn’t making idle conversation because her mind seems to be going at light speed. Human nature and her nature: she had never understood before how they are one and the same. Wars, social inequality, pollution, the seeds of all these terrible things are her own daily thoughts and emotions. She is vain and selfish, a sensual hedonist obsessed with good food and wine and men, a ‘sex kitten’ ready to give herself to the dominant male, or males, around her. She is a bad person. Or maybe hunger is making her weak and, therefore, negative, since being positive requires energy.

 

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