The Facilitator

by Tracie Podger

  “He’s in the zone,” I whispered to myself, trying to account for his aloofness.

  I sipped on my wine. If he wanted me to stay awake for twenty-four hours, perhaps I shouldn’t drink the wine.

  It was a half-hour later that he returned, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers.

  “There is a red dress in the closet that I’d like you to wear,” he said.

  “Okay, will it fit?”

  “Of course it will fit.”

  “How did you know my size?”

  “I checked your shirt,” he said with a chuckle. His mood swings were going to give me a headache.

  I looked at my watch; it was an hour before dinner. “I might take a bath,” I said.

  “Okay, I’m going to check on some things, I’ll be back here to collect you.”

  He left without another word. I sighed. “Not sure I like your zone,” I whispered, as he closed the door behind him.

  I opened the closet door to see a full-length, red silk gown. It was backless with a low neckline. Two thin straps looked as if they went over my shoulders and under my arms, other than those, I had no idea how it would stay on. It was a beautiful gown though. I let the silk run through my fingers. On a shelf in the closet was a tissue paper wrapped item. I opened it to see the most flimsy, crotchless, red lace panties. I wondered when he’d organised those.

  I ran the bath and when it was full, climbed in and sank down in the warm water. Anticipation flowed through me, and I found myself aroused at the prospect of what was to come.

  I closed my eyes and rested my head back. I parted my legs and placed my fingers between my thighs, letting the tips just brush over my clitoris. It throbbed at my touch. I sighed. I raised my hips a little pushing one finger inside me. I released a small moan.

  A splash of water startled me. I quickly opened my eyes to see Mackenzie beside the bath. He’d put his arm in, his hand covered mine, stopping me from withdrawing my finger.

  “This is mine,” he said, inserting his finger alongside mine. “Every orgasm is mine. You do not pleasure yourself,” he growled out the words.

  “What...?”

  He covered my mouth with his. I held on to the side of the bath with my free hand, fearful I might sink under his weight.

  He kissed me hard; his finger fucked me harder. It was the most erotic feeling to have his finger and mine inside me at the same time. I mirrored his movement as he stroked inside, at a place that had me writhing.

  Water splashed everywhere, covering his clothes and the floor he knelt on. He used his free hand to cup my throat. His thumb kept my chin raised as his tongue fucked my mouth. There was no other word for what he was doing. It wasn’t a kiss, it was claiming.

  When I felt my orgasm building, I let go of the bath and gripped his bicep instead. I dug my fingernails into his skin and braced my feet on the end of the tub. I arched my body until I was out of the water and even through his kiss, I screamed out as I came.

  With closed eyes I slumped back in the water and he pulled his head away. I gasped for breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I looked at him, “You’re soaked,” I said, then laughed. That laughter turned to tears.

  He reached into the bath and lifted me out; he cradled my dripping body against his as he rested his back against the wall. He lowered his head to mine.

  “Please, don’t cry,” he said.

  “I’m not sure why I am,” I lied.

  He held me for a while longer then lowered me to my feet. He reached for a towel and wrapped it around my body. His shirt was see-through and it clung to his body. He wrapped his arms around me again and pulled me against his chest.

  “Why did you come back?” I asked.

  “To apologise for being an ass. I saw you and…”

  “Why are you being an ass?”

  “Tomorrow, I’ll tell you tomorrow. For now, I want to give you the best experience I can.”

  “You’ve made a good start,” I said, and then chuckled.

  He stepped away holding me at arm’s length. He gave me a beautiful smile. “Shall I delay dinner?”

  I looked in the mirror. I hadn’t wanted to get my hair wet but it was plastered to my head. There was no time to wash it clean though.

  “No, I’ll be ready in time. And when did you organise the outfit?”

  “When you told me you wanted a weekend here,” he said.

  “I take it you have fresh clothes,” I said.

  He laughed, “Thankfully, I do.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and pulled his shirt over his head.

  We walked into the bedroom and he deposited his wet clothes on the floor. He picked up the telephone and called housekeeping; informing them he had some laundry he’d need back in the morning. He grabbed the towel from my body and dried himself off before throwing it back to me. I wrapped it around my chest and sat at the dressing table.

  While he redressed, I dried my hair, opting to tie it in a tight bun at the nape of my neck instead of spending ages curling it.

  “I like that,” he said. “I can get to every part of your neck.”

  I shivered at his words and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. He walked from the bedroom while I applied my makeup.

  I dropped the towel on the chair I’d sat in and walked to the closet. I pulled the panties on; it felt strange to wear them, not having my crotch covered. I then pulled the dress from its hanger. I slid it over my head, careful of it touching my face. The material glided over my skin. It was about the most luxurious thing I’d ever worn.

  I turned to the mirror and looked at myself. It was a perfect fit, if a little long, and it was only when I turned back to the closet to shut it I saw the shoe box. I hadn’t thought about what to wear on my feet.

  I pulled it out and opened it. “Wow,” I said, as I pulled out an impossibly high-heeled red shoe.

  Red was obviously his colour.

  I slipped them on, knowing they were going to kill my feet by the end of the evening. I then walked into the living room.

  “Fucking hell, Lauren,” he said, standing from the sofa.

  I smiled, twirled for him.

  “I love it, thank you. And the shoes!”

  “It reminds me of one of the times when we first met,” he said, quietly.

  I’d worn a red dress to the conference. Was that only a little over a month ago? It felt like a lifetime.

  He offered his arm. “Shall we?” Together, we walked to the main house.

  There were many diners already seated and I guessed an early dinner was the norm. I didn’t suppose they wanted to engage in their activities with a full stomach.

  I chuckled at the thought as a waiter seated us.

  “What’s funny?” he asked.

  “I just thought of the reason why everyone eats early. Got to let it go down before they go down!”

  He laughed and pulled a bottle of champagne from a bucket that sat on a plinth beside him.

  “Laurent Perrier, for Lauren Perry,” he said, while he poured.

  “Maybe I was named after it, but it was mispronounced,” I said, raising my glass to his.

  I took a sip and the champagne fizzed on my tongue. We were handed menus that we promptly laid on the table. I took a moment to look around the room. I didn’t recognise anyone from my previous visit, and like before, they all looked ‘normal.’ The room resembled a high-end restaurant.

  Mackenzie reached over and placed his hand on mine, he turned it over as if inspecting my palm. He traced a pattern using the fingers of his other hand.

  “This is your life line,” he said, following the path of a crease. “And this is your love line.”

  “What does it say?” I asked.

  “It says you’re going to fall in love, marry, live a long life.”

  “Does it? That would be nice.”

  He looked up at me. “I have no idea, I just made that up.”

  I laughed as I pulled my hand away. “Let me
look at yours.”

  He laid his hand down, palm up. “Now, that one is your life line, the one that runs from your wrist to your thumb. It looks like you’ll have a long life. This finger…” I placed the tip of mine over his middle finger, “Is the finger of Saturn, although I’ll rename that Satan,” I said. “And this is your love line.” I traced my nail over his palm.

  “And what does that say?” he whispered, his voice gravelly.

  “It says, if you allow it, you’ll have a long love life.”

  “Did you make that up?”

  “No, funnily enough, it’s one of those things I just remember. You’re health line is a little bit shit though, so it’s not all good news.”

  We laughed, “You’ll be the death of me, I’m sure,” he said.

  I caught sight of a hovering waiter and picked up my menu. I let Mackenzie order first, opting to scan a little longer. When he’d finished, I told the waiter I’d have the same.

  A bottle of red wine was opened and left to breathe, and our champagne glasses were refreshed.

  “If I drink too much, I might not make the twenty-four hours awake thing,” I said.

  “I’ll let you doze for an hour,” Mackenzie replied, with a wink.

  “I had the best night’s sleep last night.”

  “So did I.”

  “Did it feel odd for you, to have me in your bed?”

  “No, it was the most comfortable thing in the world.”

  Duck liver paté and small pieces of crisp bread were placed in front of us. I watched as he smeared some on the bread and popped it in his mouth. Even the way he ate was sensual and masculine at the same time.

  A rare fillet steak followed. I managed only half of mine. As the evening wore on, my nerves began to kick in. The waiter cleared the table and it was noticeable that I’d grown a little quieter.

  “Nervous?” he said, taking my hand once again. I nodded. “Don’t be, I’ll take good care of you, Lauren.”

  “I’m nervous about what I’m going to see,” I said.

  “You don’t have to do that. It’s not something I’m comfortable with.”

  “I still feel like I need to, before you do it to me.”

  “Know that I’m doing it only for you, not because I want to.”

  “I understand that, and I appreciate it, I do.”

  “Then it’s time to go,” he said.

  My legs were a little shaky as I stood. He held out his hand, and I noticed a couple of glances from diners as we walked past. One woman smiled at me, I offered a smile back.

  He led me to the stairs and we slowly ascended, then along the corridor. He released the catch on the concealed door and we took the flight of stairs to the attic rooms. My mouth had dried and I ran my tongue over my lips, hoping to moisten them. I paused as we got close to the last door down the hallway.

  “Turn back if you want to,” he whispered.

  I looked at him; his face was full of concern. “Turn back, Lauren, please,” he said. I shook my head and took a deep breath.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, I squared my shoulders and gave him a small smile.

  “If you want me to turn back, I will, for you,” I said. “We talk so much at cross purposes, Mackenzie, I don’t know what you want most of the time.”

  “I want you to experience this, I’m just worried; that’s all.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m gong to inflict pain on someone because that’s what they need from me. I’m not, and I need you to understand this, I’m not going to do the same to you. You’re not going to see the full extent of what I did to Veronica, just a small part but, if this fucks things up, I’ll be devastated.”

  “I get it, I do. Now open the door, Mackenzie.”

  He went to say something, and then closed his mouth. He turned and opened the door. He let it swing wide and stood so I could enter.

  The room wasn’t as well-lit as before, a blind had been pulled. Wall lights gave a subtle glow over the room and somehow instead of making it pleasant, it looked a little sinister. Shadows were created on the floor. I walked to the center of the room and looked around.

  “Where is she?” I whispered.

  “She’ll be here.”

  Mackenzie removed his suit jacket. He slowly rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. The muscles on his forearms bulged and his tattoo was on show. Whether it was the light or lack of, I wasn’t sure, but his eyes had darkened and his features had hardened. His body visibly changed, he became taut, and like before, I watched every muscle tighten.

  He walked towards me and grabbed my wrist, a little roughly.

  He led me to one side of the room and sat me down on a red velvet chaise. He stood to one side.

  “You do not move from that chair. You do not pleasure yourself in any way. You do not speak unless it’s to ask me to stop.”

  I raised my hand. He frowned at me, I indicated towards my arm with my head.

  “Why do you have your hand raised?”

  “I need to ask a question.”

  “Then ask the fucking question.”

  “You said not to speak.”

  “Ask the question,” he said with a sigh.

  “What if I need to pee?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “Use the fucking bathroom, over there. Jesus, Lauren, you are not going to be any good at this.”

  “It was just a…”

  “Enough,” he said sharply as the door to the room opened.

  The man I’d seen wearing the hood walked in first, holding what I could only assume was a lead rope attached to a collar around Veronica’s neck. I wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t wearing the mask, and without it he looked so young, Adonis like.

  He led her to the center of the room, where he flicked the end of the leash at her stomach. She was completely naked, with not a hair on her body. I tried not to stare. He flicked her again and she fell to her knees.

  He stood in front of her and, as I’d seen before, he stroked her hair. She murmured, it wasn’t a moan just a soft mewl. His gentleness was gone in a flash when he yanked on her lead, dragging her to her feet. She didn’t take her eyes from his.

  I felt Mackenzie’s hand on my head; he stroked my hair as I watched the man secure Veronica between two stainless steel poles. He placed a leather cuff around one wrist and clipped it high; then he did the same to the other. When she was secured, he unclipped the lead from her throat. He stood in front of her. Nothing was said by anyone in the room.

  I could feel my heart hammer in my chest. Mackenzie ran his hand down the back of my neck; his fingers gently stroked the skin.

  The crack of leather as the man flicked the leash against Veronica’s thigh startled me. I covered my mouth to contain the shriek. A red line instantly appeared on her skin, she opened her lips and gasped, closing her eyes at the same time. She slid that leg across to the pole. He repeated the process with the other then crouched and bound both ankles.

  “She’s defying him,” Mackenzie whispered. I hadn’t realised he’d lowered his head.

  I knew not to answer. And I didn’t want to. The air in the room was so highly charged it crackled. I didn’t want words to break the spell we seemed to have been sucked under.

  The man stood, he took her chin in his hand and raised her head to look at him. He stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek and she mewled again.

  He turned and stared at us, or rather directly at Mackenzie. I felt a little lost when he stepped away from the chaise. The man walked towards him, and it was as if I was witnessing the squaring up of two men before a fight. If I could see and smell the testosterone, it would have overpowered me. Two very alpha males stood face-to-face. Then one deferred. The blond man handed over the leash to Mackenzie, he lowered his head slightly, although I caught him glance very quickly my way.

  “Don’t you fucking dare look at her,” Mackenzie growled, his voice had th
e hairs on my arms stand to attention. The man bowed his head a little lower.

  I was instantly reminded of two lions about to fight for territory. Mackenzie was most certainly leader of the pride in that room. The man moved to one side, and he didn’t look at me at all. Mackenzie walked towards Veronica; he hooked his finger in the silver loop on the collar and pulled her forward. I could see her legs tremble, and I hoped that was with excitement and not fear.

  I was stunned into paralysis, not entirely sure what I was witnessing. Mackenzie was a different man, his body rigid as if about to fight. His features were hard and emotionless.

  He circled her. When he returned to face her, he flicked the leash far more aggressively than the man had. I heard the swish and the crack as it hit her stomach. She moaned out loud, arching her body back a little and rattling the chains that held her cuffs.

  He stared at her until she stilled. He held out his hand without looking behind him. I watched the Adonis walk forwards and place something in Mackenzie’s hand. Veronica sighed. It was as he stepped to one side that I noticed two small silver objects clamped to her nipples. They were connected by a silver chain.

  He walked away and to a wall that held a rack. Hanging from that rack were all sorts of implements, he ran his hand through them. The clanking of wood on wood and leather was like a distorted wind chime.

  “What’s it to be, Veronica?” he said, even his voice was different. Whereas he’d have a husky tone when aroused, it was just harsh.

  She didn’t answer and I didn’t suppose she was allowed to. But she watched him, he watched her. I watched them both. As he slowly drew his hand across the implements again, he hovered over one, her eyes had widened her breathing had become rapid. That was the implement she wanted, she’d told him with her body.

  He took down a leather-clad object. It had a handle and wide leather strap that double backed on itself. He slapped it against his hand and the noise echoed around the room. He reached up for a second one. That one had two single leather straps protruding from the handle. Her eyes widened further.

  He walked back towards her. I was surprised at how slow everything was, how measured and controlled. I guessed that was what Mackenzie meant by anticipation. Veronica’s lips were parted; she ran her tongue over the lower one.