She Bites (A Paranormal Dark Erotica Series Book 1)

by Banks, Tiffany

  I move over to him and sit in the chair. It is as hard and uncomfortable as it looks.

  “Do you know what we'll be doing tonight?” I ask him. with a little trepidation. This will be my first time performing with someone else.

  “We never know what we'll have to perform beforehand. It's one of the rules. Besides, this is Dr. Clarkson. He isn’t my usual mentor, so I have no idea of his program.”

  “He isn’t mine either,” I reply. “I'm not too keen on him, are you?”

  “Me neither, but this is my last performance,” Patrick smiles. “I leave tomorrow.”

  I like Patrick. He has a friendly manner, which puts me at ease. It also helps that he's quite handsome. When he stands, he towers over my small frame. He must be at least six feet tall. I'm pleased that I will be performing with him, but I'm also a little scared. I don’t want to let him down. If we don't do well, he might not be able to leave.

  I'm so enamored with Patrick's company, and total relaxed in our conversation, that time flies by. When the door opens, I'm completely taken aback. It's Bella, in her full leather outfit, who enters the room. She points at me with long slender fingers, tipped with bright red nails.

  “Come!” She demands.

  Just one word, but her authority is unmistakable. I do as she bids, in an instant, and move towards the door to stand in front of her.

  “Strip!” She orders.

  Again, that single word, but I don't hesitate in doing as she demands. I'm only wearing the flimsy smock, so I'm soon naked. I feel my face burn up again, stood naked in front of Patrick like this. My embarrassment is slightly tempered with the knowledge that he has already seen me naked.

  Bella indicates that I should turn around with my back to her. She instructs me to place my hands behind me. Soon I can feel the familiar leather straps as she binds my arms tight together. This forces my back to arch, and my breasts push out in front of me. With my head lowered, something makes me look up. Patrick stares at my nakedness, his blatant eyes wandering from my breasts down to my mound. Instead of the expected flush of embarrassment this time, the hot flush I feel is lower. It originates deep inside my pussy. I squirm with an uncomfortable rubbing at the tops of my legs as I squeeze them together. I'm trying to ease the unfamiliar sensation that's burning between my legs. What's happening to me? I'm becoming sex crazed. This can't be normal.

  Bella leans forward and whispers in my ear, her breath is hot against my neck.

  "Don't worry, honey," she breathes. "You'll soon be able to scratch that itch."

  * * *

  Celeste: The Closeted Exhibitionist

  Before I have time to contemplate her meaning, she fastens the chain to my ever present dog collar. Then she leads me from the room. I look back at Patrick, and he mouths “later” to me.

  Soon, we're back on the stage. It's in complete darkness, as is the rest of the Theater. I'm unable to see any of the Audience, but I'm hoping my mentor, Nathan, is there. A single spotlight shoots a beam of brightness onto the stage. It illuminates the "horse," an implement that I'm familiar with. Bella drags me over to it. As she pulls on my chain hard, she forces me to double over the leather padding that covers it. Then fastens the chain from my dog collar, into a metal ring on the floor. Not too tight that I can't breathe, but tight enough to stop me lifting my head and looking around.

  Bella returns to the other side and I hold my breath, awaiting the expected blow from the paddle or cane, but it doesn't come. Instead, I feel my legs being roughly forced apart and each one strapped to a leg of the horse. In this position I'm completely exposed to the audience, my most intimate of areas wide open to their gaze. Again, my body's response to this exposure is completely unexpected. Instead of shame and embarrassment, I feel a flush of excitement that causes a warmth to rush to my cunt. I think I'm becoming a bit of an exhibitionist!

  I seem to be in this position for an eternity before anything actually happens. My legs spread wide and my pussy exposed to the audience. I wonder what exactly this test is, when I hear someone behind me. Sucking in my breath to expect a blow on my ass cheeks, instead I feel a firm hand squeezing one of my buttocks. Then another hand joins in and fondles the other cheek. Strong fingers kneed at my tender plump flesh. The hands wander all over my ass, stroking and squeezing with an occasional light slap. One of the hands, perhaps not intentional, strokes against my exposed labia. It feels like an electric shock as my body jerks rigid. An unbelievable sensation sweeps through me, and I feel my pussy gush with wetness. My passions reach new heights as the fingers penetrate between my labia until they are deep inside of me. I'm so wet that they slip inside with little resistance. This new act of deprivation drives my passion higher, as I grind my hips down on the invading fingers.

  This is to be my special performance. They're to fuck me on stage, in front of the mentors. in front of Nathan. How I wish it was Nathan who was toying with my pussy right now. The fingers are pulled from my wet canal and I feel a little bereft of the fullness they had given me. Not for long though as they are soon replaced by something much bigger. It feels like I'm splitting in two, as my labia lips stretch to the extreme. My pussy is trying to accommodate the huge pole that's entering me. The pain's excruciating, and I cry out in agony. This seems to make the person fucking me, who I assume is Patrick, pause.

  “Just relax, Celeste. Relax and enjoy. I promise it won't hurt for long,” he confirms my suspicions as his calm voice attempts to reassure me.

  I do as he asks, and relax my body, loosening my muscles, and laying there completely submissive. Soon, I feel his erection probing again at my wetness. With slow moves, he pushes inside of me. It slides between the slippery wet flesh of my pussy, all the way way in, until I feel his course pubic hairs brush harsh and wiry against my exposed tender flesh of my ass. He holds it just there. His cock embedded deep inside of me. The tip presses against a spot within me, that sends delicious sensations coursing through my body. Without realizing I'm doing it at first, I grind my hips onto him, squeezing my vaginal muscles around his thick girth. The pleasure is indescribable. Maybe it's the situation that we're in. Or, maybe something has awakened inside of me. Whatever it is, I've never felt so horny in my whole life. I want to be fucked, and hard. I want to be impaled on a big, fat piece of meat like this. Further, I wanted this giant cock in my ass too.

  Encouraged by my debauched actions, Patrick starts to thrust in and out of me. He has the urgency of a man who hasn't had sex in a while, though I'm sure he has. He withdraws his thickness, until just the tip buries between my labia lips. Slamming back into me, he causes me to rock forward. Unable to move because of the chains around my legs and my neck, I feel my airways becoming restricted. My head begins to swim, but I don't care. I want him to fuck me and fuck me hard. I shout out, telling him to do just that.

  "Oh, fuck me please, Patrick. Fuck me hard," I cry out the words, knowing full well that everyone in the Theatre can hear me. I'm past caring about my reputation, or modesty. I just want to be filled, and I want to express myself in saying as much. I wanted to express myself publicly! Who'd have thought that I could be capable of such a thing?

  My words spur Patrick on. He thrusts faster and harder inside of me, banging into me like a steam piston. Again, I feel lightheaded from the restrictions around my neck, but I manage to thrust back with eager vigor. Something is building inside of me. It's a strange sensation that I've never felt before. The more I thrust back at him, the stronger the feeling becomes. Patrick makes grunting sounds, which become louder as he pounds in and out of me. His rhythm gets faster. His erection swells ever thicker, stretching me so much I feel he might split me in two. A huge animalistic grunt emanates from him. I feel my insides flooding with a warmth, as Patrick climaxes inside of me. The combination of his extra girth, and the warm feeling of his cum, pushes me over the edge. My body convulses and shakes, as I too, have my first orgasm. The feeling is indescribable as waves of pleasure flow over my body. It seems to last
for an age, before it eases off. As it does, I realize I have difficulty breathing. The dog collar around my neck is pressing against my airway, cutting off my air supply. I'm vaguely aware of applause ringing around the Theatre, and Patrick's warm cum dripping down my legs. Then blackness overtakes me completely.

  I'm not sure how long I passed out for, but when I wake up, many people swim into my view. My vision begins to clear and I can see concern etched on my audience's faces. I realize I'm no longer on the "horse," but lying on the floor with someone's coat covering my modesty. I look for Nathan's face, hoping to see if he's happy with my performance, but he isn't one of those kneeling beside me. Then, I see him. He's standing further back. Fury and anger etch into his features as he gives me a look of contempt, before he turns away to leave. I'm shocked and a little stunned. I just did my best for him, but it seems it wasn't good enough. Everyone else in the audience enjoyed our performance, but not Nathan. For me, he's the only one that matters.

  Bella comes to take me back to my quarters and I allow her to lead me off the stage. I feel numb, wondering why Nathan is so angry with me. This was his plan. It was his test for me, and I’ve done the best I could. Yet, why do I feel as if something has gone terribly wrong?

  * * *

  Nathan: Blindsided

  Celeste’s training is going well. It is hard to compare the beautiful woman that danced on the pole naked, with the chronically shy young girl who I took under my wing, only a few days ago. For some reason, which I am struggling to comprehend, this makes me incredibly happy. It seems that young Celeste is having as big an impact on me, as I am having on her.

  I wanted to congratulate her, straight after the dance, but I was called away to my clinic. A client needed emergency counseling, and I was the one on call this evening. My full time role, if that’s what you call my means of income, is within a psychological trauma clinic that I run, along with other professional colleagues. We have an emergency unit, which deals with clients who are in severe crisis; usually suicidal. We offer them a safe place, and a professional ear to listen to their problems. It is a successful clinic. I pride myself in the part I play at attempting to make life easier for those who have hit rock bottom.

  I make a good living from the clinic. With the bonus of a good deal of job satisfaction. By far though, I enjoy the work I do at Audience the most. Audience is a more specialist area, and deals with the specific social problem of shyness and social self esteem. While it might seem a minor problem, shyness can be completely debilitating. It stops people from reaching their full potential. I also enjoy the competition between colleagues, it adds an extra spice to the job.

  One of my great rivals is Dr Christopher Clarkson. We’ve known each other a long time and we are forever in competition with each other. I can’t decide if I like him, or dislike him, a lot. It’s one of those love-hate relationships. He has a certain arrogance that I find distasteful, but he’s a good doctor, of that there's no doubt. Recently he’s been spreading it around, that he feels that I’m about to make a fool of myself with my latest protege. For some reason he seems hell bent on my losing this one. Perhaps it is this, that is making me want to be successful with Celeste. I’m not sure why she affects me, because all my clients are just that. People who are a part of my work.

  I have to confess, that Audience is not purely for professional pleasure. While I do not engage in sexual activity with my clients, I do get a certain sexual thrill from seeing women constrained and controlled. I’ve always enjoyed the pleasures of BDSM, and am a self confessed Dom. If any relationship I engage in does not include that as aspect as part of mine and my partner's daily lives, then that relationship is short lived. Despite my domineering tendencies, in my private life I only ever engage in acts of BDSM with consenting women.

  I often consider my BDSM tendencies with my professional hat on. I’m sure Freud would have a field day, looking into my childhood to see what abnormalities in the psychosexual stages led to this. What he called, the “most significant of all perversions.” In my case though, it would disappoint him to learn that my childhood was a good one, or at least as good as one can hope for. My father was firm, yet fair. He loved me, of that I’m sure. He taught me to hunt, because he too was a controlling man, though not over his children. My mother died when I was young, so I have few memories of her. I know my father loved her, and I think he never recovered completely from her death. I have a younger sister who I adore. When my father died, it hit us both hard. He was an inspirational man and a great dad to both of us. I no longer go hunting as I believe it to be a cruel sport, killing for fun is something I oppose. I don’t like to kill, I just like to be in charge, that’s enough for me. I stand no nonsense, but I like to think I’m fair.

  When I arrive at Audience, I can see light coming from the Theater, which is odd as there were no shows booked for today. I think it must be just finishing, as there are rounds of applause and cheers. This level of boisterousness only usually occurs when there is a sex act performed on the stage. I decide to go down to the Theater stage to see which of our clients are gracing the stage. As I open the door, I spot Patrick. He’s one of Chris’s clients, so I understand why the session wasn’t logged. Chris tends to do his teaching in a rather unorthodox ad hoc method. I know that Patrick is ready to leave us, being one of Chris’s successful clients, which is good. I’m always glad when we have positive result, and besides I bet pretty heftily on this candidate. Patrick's success would mean a two week trip to Jade Mountain in Saint Lucia for me. I've already daydreamed of Celeste being with me on this trip; her pink rosebud nipples just above the water line of the infinity pool on our private terrace. The pitons, misty and romantic in the background to round out the fantasy. It intrigues me as to who Patrick is on the stage with though. He’s a big handsome lad, who we use a lot for group sex sessions on stage. It has helped him tremendously, as he was quite aggressive towards women when he first came here. We’ve helped him see women as his equal, I’m glad to say.

  Looking down to the center stage, I see a group of people standing around. Patrick is stood to one side and I can see concern written on his face. As I approach I can just make out a petite naked form lying on the ground. It appears she is unconscious, but I can't quite see her face yet. For some ominous reason, I have a terrible sinking feeling inside. Then the woman is starting to sit up, and my jaw drops, My heart stops I'm sure, as I stand frozen and in shock. There before me, no doubt well fucked by Patrick, is Celeste. Why? I never arranged for this. NO! It can’t be. She’s mine. She’s not available for other mentors. Who the hell has done this?

  Then I realize, it’s got to be Christopher Clarkson, the bastard. He would have known I didn’t want this to happen. Celeste is my client, not his. How could she betray me in this way. I will speak with Clarkson, and vent my fury on him. Later I will deal with Celeste. She deserves nothing but punishment for this. A punishment befitting her crime of blatant disloyalty.

  * * *

  Master Nathan

  I stand at the end of the corridor and watch Bella lead Celeste away. A whole gamut of emotions course through my body, and I'm struggling to understand them. I've mentored many young women over the years. Some equally, if not more beautiful than Celeste. Yet she seems to have touched something inside of me that no one has managed before. Still, the overriding feeling I have at the moment is anger. Annoyed at my colleague, Dr. Clarkson, but also with Celeste. Angry enough to want to punish her. She disappears down the end of the corridor, so I re-enter the Theater. Addressing my colleagues, who are still discussing the erotic performance they just witnessed. I made my mind up on the spot, on how to regain control of this situation.

  “I know it's getting late gentlemen, but I’d like you all to stay in the Theater a little longer this evening,” I announce. “There’s a second part to the show. Go get a drink at the bar, and we’ll recommence in half an hour?” I look at my watch, and the guys, slack jawed, just not their agreement.


  I leave, and go to prepare for the show. I decide not to go see Celeste. Why should I allow her to explain her behavior? Instead, I go speak with the dominatrices.

  “Bella,” I call over to her, as she lounges on a couch, cup of coffee in hand. “It’s time we took Celeste Montgomery to the next level.”

  “Really?” She exclaims, surprised at my decision. “I thought she was coming along well, especially after tonight's performance.”

  “It's not your place to question my decisions, Bella," I snap at her, angry at her impertinence. "You are merely a tool in the process.” Her face drops at my tone, and she apologizes.

  “I’m sorry doctor, what do you wish me to do?”

  I give Bella full instructions on what I expect, and then leave to get my own outfit ready. It's normal for me to wear a full face mask when I perform. Anonymity can be important with your subjects, at least to begin with. In this instance, I most definitely want Celeste to know who she’s with and who it is doing the things I'll be doing to her. It will be me and her, and no one else.

  When I return to the stage, all the necessary equipment is in place. The music begins and Bella arrives with Celeste, leading her by the chain attached to her collar. Celeste smiles a hesitant smile when she sees me on the stage, but that is soon replaced with confusion. She notices my outfit of leather pants, a large buckled belt and studded boots. I’ve a leather waistcoat on my upper body and nothing else. I look the part of a Master; her Master.