by JB Duvane
I was walking on air as I led her into the bathroom. She was so cute the way she admired the Italian marble tiles and the massive sunken bathtub that sat in the far corner of the room. I could tell she was still nervous because she took her time checking out the products and the fixtures. But eventually she started to get undressed. I stood in the doorway and waited, and I swear if the night ended right here, knowing that she was willing to do this for me, I would have been the happiest man alive.
Pulling the straps off her shoulders, Amber let her dress fall down a bit. Then she turned her head to see where I was.
“Go ahead,” I said as I watched her face flush.
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Good.” I leaned up against the doorframe and motioned for her to continue. Amber unclasped her bra and let it, and the dress, fall to the floor. There she stood in front of me in nothing but a pair of sheer black panties. I couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.
“I’m just going to put the water on,” she said, leaning over the edge of the tub so that the fullness of her ass was accentuated.
“Probably a good idea.”
When she stood back up, she put her hands over her breasts. Her modesty was charming, but I didn’t want her to get used to doing that around me.
“Don’t cover yourself. I don’t ever want you to cover any part of your body when you’re in my presence, Amber.”
She turned slowly and lowered her hands. I could tell she was uncomfortable, and that knowledge made my cock immediately stand at attention. I knew she was doing what I asked to please me. She may have been doing this for herself too, but the look in her eyes told me a lot more than her hands or the words that came out of her mouth.
And I could have just about come right then from what those eyes were telling me. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not yet anyway.
“Turn back around and slowly lower your panties to the floor.”
I could read Amber’s expression in her eyes almost as if it were written there. My words were startling to her, but they also turned her on. The evidence of that was shown to me when she was bent over and I could see the glistening wetness that dripped off her pussy lips.
“Good girl. Now get into the shower.”
She did as she was told, stepping over the edge of the bathtub and under the stream of hot water. I watched as it trailed down her chest, covering her breasts and dripping down to her feet. It didn’t take long for her to step all the way under, closing her eyes and wetting her hair.
She opened her eyes and glanced over at me, then reached for a bottle of body wash. Squeezing it into her palm, she let out an approving moan, smelling the intense citrus scent. Then she moved her hands across her body; first her stomach, then her arms, working the liquid into a lather. Finally, she moved both hands over her breasts. Getting them soapy, she moaned in delight, which made my cock even harder.
I was surprised that she was taking to me watching her so quickly. For me, it was a fantasy come true, to finally see Amber’s beautiful body. To watch her as I’d always wanted to, with her on display just for me. And having this much control over her so quickly was astounding. I kept hoping this wasn’t a dream and that I wouldn’t wake up soon with a different woman next to me in bed.
No, this was real. Amber was washing and touching herself for me.
Her fingers roamed over her full, round breasts. She pinched and massaged them, then leaned over, letting the water splash her ass and run down between her thighs.
Her hands ran up the skin of her legs, leaving a soapy trail that slid back down each curve. When her hand reached the space between her thighs, she surprised me by opening her eyes and looking at me while she slipped her fingers between her pussy lips. The white, sudsy lather partially obscured my view, but I knew exactly what she was doing.
Her hand moved back and forth in quick circular motions, while her other hand reached up and slipped around in circles over one of her breasts.
She groaned again, the deep, throaty noise filling the room and sending a shock wave straight to my hard cock. It was difficult for me to just stand there. Every fiber of my being wanted to take her right then, with the warm water trailing down our skin. But I didn’t want to rush this. I had plans for Amber, and they needed to unfold in a certain way. Slowly and with care. I didn’t want to scare her, and if I took her now that’s exactly what would happen.
Amber
Chapter 6
“That’s it?” I asked, staring at Damon as he turned the shower off and wrapped me up in a large, fluffy towel. I was dumbfounded and slightly insulted. I’d imagined that he was as turned on as I was during my shower. I could barely keep my hands off of my clit, knowing that he was watching me.
But just as my body started to tremble, as I neared a full-bodied orgasm, Damon crossed the room and abruptly ended everything.
“For now.” He was smiling down at me while he patted my body down with the towel. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
I could feel my face turn red and looked down as if I was completely preoccupied with drying my legs. When really I was avoiding his eyes.
I had enjoyed myself. I liked knowing that Damon was watching me. Even though I still felt like I barely knew him, even though I couldn’t fathom doing that sort of thing in front of any other man, I wanted to show him how turned on I was. But more than that, I wanted to do what he told me to do.
I almost hoped he would tell me to do more, to finger myself or suck his cock. That’s why I was so disappointed when he wrapped me up in the towel. The feeling of knowing that he was in control turned me on so much I could barely stand it. And I’d never felt that way with any other man before in my life.
“Why don’t you get dressed? There are some things in the bureau you can put on, and anything else you might need in the drawers at the sitting table. I’m going to go check on dinner. Don’t go anywhere until I come back here.”
“Okay,” I said, giving Damon a weak smile. I still wasn’t sure what he wanted with me if he had no interest in my naked body.
“Promise me you won’t leave this room until I get back.”
“I promise.”
“Good girl.” Damon turned and left the bathroom, then I heard the bedroom door open and close behind him.
I opened the heavy wooden drawers of an antique bureau and ran my fingers over some of the most beautiful lingerie I’d ever seen. There were at least twenty different sets in silk and lace. Some with very delicate bras and panties, some with longline bras that almost came down to the waist, and some corsets with nothing to cover the breast area at all. And all in different variations of red and black.
I chose a black lace set made of a very sheer fabric and when I looked in the mirror I was pleased with the way I looked. I figured it had to be the forgiving light that helped accentuate the contours of my body. But I was still worried that Damon didn’t seem interested. But if he wanted me in this lingerie, he must be at least somewhat interested.
I opened a large wardrobe and found a long, silk robe—also in a very ornate red and black pattern—then slipped on some high-heeled slippers. The kind with the tuft of ostrich feather across the top. I sat on the bed for a few minutes, but thought it couldn’t hurt if I waited with the door open. But once it was open, I was drawn out into the hall and down one of the dark corridors that was lined in antique paintings of voluptuous, lounging women.
I kept expecting to find Damon waiting for me around a corner. I was sure this was the way down to the main part of the house, but no matter where I looked, he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I called out his name and looked down a couple intersecting corridors, but when I tried to retrace my steps I realized I was lost.
I thought about staying put and waiting for him to come for me, but I didn’t know if he’d be able to find me. I felt confident that I was back to where I started, the hallway that held the master bedroom, but when I reached the end of the hal
l, I found a narrow staircase that spiraled down into darkness. I thought maybe this was a back staircase that would lead me down to the kitchen, but when I reached the bottom, in front of me stood two solid oak doors.
I approached the doors and noticed that there was a heavy, antique lock attached to a long metal handle in between them.
On a whim, I pressed down on the handle, and the metal lock slid up, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing down the empty hall. The doors were heavy, but I managed to push them open. I stepped in between them, but when I let go, the doors closed behind me.
If the other rooms in the house were a surprise, I should’ve never stepped into this one. After glancing around the room, I turned around quickly to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
A lurching sickness crept over me. My stomach churning, I tried to move but could only succeed in rolling over and using the heavy door to support me. I stood there and stared at what was in front of me.
It was a room for torture.
There was a slab of marble in the center, straps hanging to the sides. The walls were lined with weapons. Whips, canes, pokers, and many more unusual objects. I’d never seen most of them and had no idea what they were.
The room was covered in leather straps, one after the other sewn into the walls, giving it a bizarre textured appearance. Everywhere I looked, in every corner, I saw an instrument of torture. A pillory that was used to hold a person’s head and hands in place, a wooden structure with multiple arms and straps that looked to be used to keep someone in an uncomfortable position. There was a tall bed in one corner that was covered in red velvet, with black leather cuffs attached to all four corners. And this was in Damon’s house.
This was his cellar.
I didn’t know what to think, but it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to get the hell out of there. Not just out of that room, away from the whole house. But they were out in the middle of nowhere—in the country in a place I couldn’t even describe to anyone, even if I had my phone with me, which I didn’t.
What was he planning on doing to me? Torture me? Kill me? Ten years could really change someone and it’s entirely possible that Damon targeted me at the reunion, knowing I’d trust him. Maybe he was a psychopath now. Maybe he had gone completely mad.
I jumped when I heard the door click shut behind me, then turned and screamed. Damon stood there in front of the massive doors, his dark, penetrating eyes burning into me.
“I told you to wait in the room.” His voice had an edge to it that scared me. I had no idea who he was anymore.
“I’m … I’m sorry. I was just going to wait for you in the hall, but I got lost.”
“All the way down here?” Damon took a step toward me and I backed up. I had no idea what I was going to do. I was already locked in and all he needed to do was put me in one of his many contraptions. I’d be completely at his mercy.
“W-what is this?” My mind was racing. There had to be an explanation for all of this. Damon couldn’t be a killer.
“There’s no need to be frightened. I’m not going to hurt you.” He took another step toward me, and regardless of what he was saying to me, my reflex was to take another step back. I still didn’t know what to think.
“What is all this for, Damon?”
He took a deep breath and sighed. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“Find out what? You’re scaring me, Damon.”
“Please, Amber. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m not going to hurt you. These things in this room … they’re for pleasure. Pleasure and pain.”
I didn’t know what to say. I knew there were people who were into this sort of thing, I’d read about BDSM and sexual torture, but seeing it all in person—being surrounded by it—was another thing all together.
“Are you familiar with dominance and submission, Amber?”
“Y-yes. I mean, I’ve heard about it … read about it. The Story of O.”
“Yes, I’ve read that too,” he said with a soft smile. He didn’t have the look of a killer in his eyes. In fact, they had a softness to them that put me at ease a bit.
“I know,” I said. “I saw you reading it one day in the cafeteria. I didn’t know what it was about until years later.”
“Did you like it … when you found out what it was?” he asked, stepping closer to me. I took another step backward and the heel of my shoe slipped into the grooves between the stone slabs, causing me to fall sideways. Damon grabbed me and pulled me up, then held my body close to his. I was still filled with adrenaline, but now the terror was turning into excitement as I looked into his eyes. “Yes, I did.”
“Is it something you think you might want to try?” Damon hovered over me, his hot breath sending tingles across my skin.
“I don’t know … I …”
Damon stepped back and let go of my arms. “Let’s go eat dinner. We can talk about this and relax a bit. The last thing I wanted to do was scare you, Amber.”
I glanced around at all of the weapons on the walls and tried to picture them being used. Would he want to use these instruments on me? Would I like it? I had to admit I was curious. There was a part of me that wanted to understand. Wanted to experience the things that went on in this room. But I was also still a little scared.
“Amber?”
I looked at Damon and I wanted to understand him. When I looked into his eyes I didn’t see a maniac. I saw someone who looked genuinely worried that I might be uncomfortable. I knew deep down that I could trust him. “Okay.”
Damon took my hand and led me to the door. He flipped a small hidden cupboard and punched a code into a keypad and the double doors opened up in front of us.
“So that’s how you get out of here,” I said, smiling up at him.
“Yes, but I’m the only one who knows the code.” Damon raised an eyebrow and held his hand out so that I would walk ahead of him. I had never been more intrigued by Damon Andrews in my entire life.
Damon
Chapter 7
As we made our way up the spiral staircase, I laughed to myself.
“You were really scared back there, weren’t you?”
Amber turned and gave me a disbelieving look. “Well, can you blame me?”
“No,” I said as we turned into the dining room. “That’s why I told you to wait in your room. There are some things in this house that you won’t understand, and I’d like the opportunity to explain them to you before you jump to conclusions.” I pulled out Amber’s chair at one end of the table, then pushed it in for her and sat down in the chair closest to hers. “I’m so used to this lifestyle that even a pair of handcuffs lying on a bedside table is nothing out of the ordinary.” I looked up at Amber. “Some people use handcuffs during sex, you know.”
Amber looked like she was avoiding my eyes. She glanced around the room nervously and fiddled with her silverware. “I know that people use handcuffs.”
“Have you ever used them? They sell them all over the place, those fuzzy handcuffs. They’re usually the first step people take in bondage, but most of the time they don’t go any further than that.”
Amber turned red and laughed. I was glad to see her smiling. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve use the exact cuffs you’re talking about. Lined with pink fur.”
“That’s awesome. How did you like it?”
“Well, they were more of a silly toy than anything. I mean, I could break out of them if I really wanted to by pressing down on this little button,” she demonstrated where the button was by touching her wrist.
“That’s no good. None of my handcuffs have a little button like that,” I smiled. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Did I like it?”
“Yes.” I noticed that my questions were making Amber squirm a bit, and I liked that.
“Yes. I did like using them.”
“How did it make you feel?” I watched the flickering candlelight sparkle in Amber’s eyes and
cast shadows under her cheekbones. Her answer was interrupted by Victor, though. She didn’t realize that he knew everything that went on in my home and would have not batted an eyelash at this conversation. But I could see that Amber was having a hard enough time answering my questions with just me in the room.
Victor quickly filled our wine glasses, then disappeared into the kitchen. I picked up my glass and held it up, and Amber did the same.
“To new experiences,” I said, unable to keep a smile from spreading across my face.
“To new experiences,” Amber repeated, mirroring my smile. She took a drink and set her glass down and I stared at her with an expecting look. I wasn’t going to let her get out of telling me her experiences. I was on the edge of my seat waiting to hear about the things she’d thought about doing but never had the courage to try.
“Go on,” I said.
“Well,” Amber fidgeted a little, then took a deep breath and started to tell me her deepest fantasies. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always wanted to be with a man who was in complete control. I liked being in the handcuffs because it made me feel … I don’t know … helpless in a way.” She looked embarrassed but continued. “Kind of like the way you make me feel.” Amber’s eyes went to her hands and didn’t come back up.
I reached over and put my hand on hers. “I’m glad you feel that way. At the risk of sounding callus, it was a little thrilling to see how scared you were. I’m sure you felt a loss of control in that moment.”
“Um … yeah.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Well, when I thought you were going to kill me, it wasn’t so hot. But when I realized it wasn’t what I thought, that it was a sexual thing, I have to admit it excited me.”
“Interesting. Well, as far as control, I’m just the opposite. I need to be in control. In control of you, specifically. Your body and your pleasure. But I’d much prefer that you trusted me before we tried anything down in the cellar.”