Unorthodox Chemistry

by Lilah E. Noir

  He lowered her to the ground, made her look up at him and stroked her cheek. She was down on her knees once more but no longer trembling from fear. Her slender frame was resting under his touch, so tender, so deceptive.

  The man ripped the bodice on her back with one move and it fell to the ground by her knees. The ballerina screamed in humiliation when the ruined fabric fell apart and her perky breasts were bared. She tried to cover her naked body when the shaft of light stopped on her. The alabaster of her skin glowed red. He grabbed her by the wrists, forced them apart and made her put her arms by her sides. His fingers slid up her shoulders as if she was a fine musical instrument.

  She stayed still while he ruined her tutu and left her nude and vulnerable, in nothing but her ballet slippers. When he removed the last piece of clothing that covered her modesty, she bowed her head in shame but his palm under her chin forced her to look up. The ballerina froze in his grasp and obeyed. Her tears glistened like diamonds under the stage lights.

  He lifted her to her feet again and spun her to face the audience. Her captor was fully clothed while she was naked, open and easy to crush. The man wasn't touching her in a sensual way. He simply stood behind her, his palms clasped together with hers, a knee keeping her legs wide apart. That domineering posture and hold didn't allow her to shy away or hide. The artificial moonlight was dancing across her naked breasts. Her nipples, thighs, and stomach were painted with brocade and looked sprinkled with stardust.

  The quiet moment didn't last a long time.

  The man brushed her neck with his lips, turned her to face him and inclined her. The dancing girl threw her head back once he leaned forward. That was when the nymphs came back from the darkness of the forest. They were carrying burning candles, brighter than the fading fireflies and dim stars.

  He held her by the waist and the curve of her thigh with one arm and she hung with her swaying hair and brocade-covered chest. She was wax about to be moulded into something beautiful.

  My thoughts turned out to be an eerie foreshadowing. The dark haired man picked up one of the candles and careened it over her breasts. She gasped when the first drops of hot wax touched her skin and left their marks. Her naked flesh quivered while her Master drew a portrait with melting candles and used her as his canvas. Soft moans of delight and anguish came from her lips in a duet with the swelling music.

  I remembered the first time I felt wax on my skin at Thomas' house, how he poured the burning drops on me. I ached in places I didn't know existed. He brought the heat to the next level and pushed me to a space beyond my willpower. The pleasure and pain he woke in me were more than I could handle but he was always on the other side to make sure my mind wouldn't break.

  Tears ran down my cheeks, uninvited yet not taking no for an answer.

  The girl on the stage writhed while the man coated her body with an embrace of wax. Her rapture hurt me worse than any whip. Could I be like her and surrender by instinct, especially when Thomas was so close to me, within my reach?

  Would it be enough if I knelt and begged him to take me back?

  Unlikely.

  She was crying a beautiful symphony of moans. The forest spirits knelt and weaved her hair into a thick braid. The man left the burning candle aside and lifted her up to place a tender kiss on her lips. His little nymph tried to deepen the kiss but he yanked her braid and shook his head. He lowered her to the ground, on her knees, using her hair as reigns. The women were caressing her flustered body. They laid her down with her cheek against the forest floor. Their Master marked her exposed back, the curve of her ass and hips with crimson candle wax. He painted wings over her delicate shoulder blades. She cried in pleasure when several drops fell between her parted thighs.

  Whenever I looked away from the intense scene, it was to search for Thomas' face in the darkness. The hall was dusky except for the light on the stage. All I could see was his dim silhouette.

  What was he thinking?

  Did he feel that agonizing loneliness?

  I could only guess.

  The three faeries were busy decorating their seduced victim. She was still naked except for the slippers and the wax drawing. One of them picked up a long, white rope and handed it to the man in black. He thanked her with a sensual caress across the cheek before the ballerina fully captured his attention.

  She was lying on the floor, her wrists drawn behind her back and her rear side in the air, in perfect submissive posture. He put his fingers between her legs. The ballerina gasped and moved her hips to press further against him. Her Master shook his head and for the first time, he smacked his palm against her butt cheeks. The girl cried out but this time she stood still while he kept caressing her skin, stroked it slowly before he landed another palm on her ass.

  How would I go through the rest of the evening? I felt exposed, sensitive and hornier than I'd been for months. When I pressed my thighs together, the wetness dripped down my thighs.

  The protective layers, the Procedure, and my fears were being slowly stripped away like unnecessary clothes.

  Up on stage, the dark-haired man was working on a complicated knot. He tied the girl's wrists together and checked the strength of the rope. The faeries were sliding hands across her flesh and soothing her. Their lips were moving soundlessly but the words were echoing in my mind.

  Relax.

  Trust him.

  Release your body.

  Surrender.

  A large suspension ring descended from the ceiling above them while the man was busy tying the girl's ankles. She changed her position and was back on her knees. He stroked her neck and moved his hand to caress the small of her waist and thighs. His dark head inclined to her ear for an intimate whisper.

  The young woman just nodded with the same quiet confidence she'd danced with. He caressed her head and smiled for the first time that evening. The faeries kept handing him rope he used to wrap her upper body into an intricate corset. He framed her perky breasts and finished the knots behind her back.

  The massive suspension device was in the form of a triskelion. It had been lowered to the level of his head. He was consumed in turning the girl's body into a work of art, in transforming her before the hungry eyes of the public.

  The sight of the rope and the speed he was tying the knots with made me feel both sick and desirous. His fingers danced over her skin, and the rope framing her blushing body was too beautiful.

  He kissed the top of the girl's head and laid her down on her stomach. The three spirits knelt next to him and looked up with deep-seated hunger. The music gradually shifted from sensual ballet to an electronic sound that echoed like an intense, anxious heartbeat.

  The women lifted her body up so the man could suspend her on the triskelion ring. She was no longer shivering as he worked on the finer details of her bondage. Her body's well-defined muscles were fully relaxed and her whole being exuded strange, unnatural serenity. She was high, literally and figuratively.

  Before he pulled the rope to lift her into the air, the Master leaned forward to kiss her lips. His fingers rested on the side of her head and smoothed the auburn wisps that had escaped her braid. He caressed her for the last time and slowly suspended the bound girl in the air. While she was ascending, the light grew more intense and its focus shifted to her restrained body, the white beams reflecting the brocade on her denuded skin.

  I gasped while I was watching her slow, sensual flight, her total trust and fearlessness.

  The memory of rope around my ankles and steel on my wrists brought another wave of emotions through me.

  Too much... Why does it have to be so beautiful?

  I had no idea how long I spent staring at the ballerina high above us. I was sure my mind had fused with hers, and I felt like I was flying among pieces of stardust. Maybe it was wishful thinking or madness brought on by the deviant theater.

  Next thing I knew, the light was on. The performers were down on the stage and accepting applause. Someone touched my face gen
tly and wiped my tears with their fingers. Was it really happening or was I still caught up in the flight of fantasy?

  The delicate touch spread warmth through me and I turned around to meet Thomas' eyes. All the earlier anger and resentment had leaked from his gaze. He was staring at me with concern and affection while his thumb drew circles down my cheek.

  "Are you okay?" His voice was soft and caring.

  Was this the same man who had thrown daggers at me earlier?

  Thomas smiled warmly and placed his hand on my other cheek.

  "Yes, I..." I blinked the tears away and stared back at him. My voice was filled with tears when I uttered, "I don't know what happened. It's just..."

  No words could describe the storm of feelings that scene had provoked in me. His palms cupped my face. The tenderness in his eyes was the last nail in the coffin of my self-control.

  "Yes, I know..." He smiled. Our faces were inches from each other. He was close enough that I could lean further and brush my lips against his. "I saw one of their performances a few years ago. It took me a while to come back to my senses."

  For that brief moment, I believed we were back to how we used to be. All those months of loneliness were melting. All the self-hatred was dissolving. All I had to do was reach out and...

  "Yes, they were pretty impressive." Nate cleared his throat and moved closer to me. He wrapped his arm around my waist in an unusually proprietary manner. Thomas instantly let go of my face and glared at him. He clenched his jaw and moved away from us.

  My hopes withered and gave way to mortification. I was just about to kiss my ex while my new boyfriend was right next to me.

  Lina, you're such a whore.

  I turned to Nate with fear but he simply smiled. His reassurance made me feel even worse.

  Allie chose that moment to cut the tense silence and smirked at us. If the performance had moved her the same way it moved me, she didn't show it.

  "I told you they were worth watching, didn't I?"

  Nate turned to her and blushed.

  "Yes, I've never seen anything like that. It was really beautiful."

  Allie chuckled and regarded him with clear interest.

  "Trust me, there will be more beautiful things tonight if you follow my lead. Now, come with me. Everything is ready in my private room."

  The way to Allie's private suite was a blur. The Ballet of Wax and Fire performance had heightened my senses to near breaking point. Coming down from it was a lot like sub drop. Somehow, I calmed down and stopped crying. My face was probably a total mess, with streaks of running mascara and eyeliner.

  Allie and Thomas were walking ahead of us. Nate still had his arm wrapped around my waist in a protective embrace. His thumb was circling a spot at the small of my waist. He wasn't tense and treated me with more understanding and concern than I deserved.

  The moment the lights were out I had forgotten about him. True, the magic of the theater had taken me away from reality. That was a good excuse, however. The whole time the ballerina's emotions entranced me, Thomas' presence became even more intense. I felt him the whole time and longed for him when my protective walls were falling apart.

  His warm touch when he wiped my tears still lingered on my skin.

  How did this happen? Just a week ago my life was slowly going back to normal and...

  Was it?

  The sounds around me fused into white noise. The partygoers continued with their orgy at an even more intense pace after the scene was over. It didn't surprise me. I myself was soaking wet and ready to be ravaged in spite of the fog in my brain and the mess of my emotions.

  If in that moment Thomas offered for Nate to take part in my public degradation, I'd submit. I'd allow them to rip my dress off and fuck me in public for everyone's amusement. Tie me to one of the poles. Whip me until I bled. Write disgraceful names all over my body. The whole deal. They'd be free to carry out every act of depravity and I'd scream for more until they stripped me of any shred of dignity.

  Hell, I even longed for them to leave me behind, tied and helpless, showered with cum.

  I was horrible and deserved that ultimate humiliation. They had to denigrate and punish me for being so weak.

  The air conditioning in the elevator blew in my face, and those self-destructive urges evaporated. The dark veil over my mind and sight was slowly dissolving. I wiped my face and saw Thomas staring at me with that same plaintiff expression.

  The need for punishment without mercy or a safeword turned into anger. What the hell did he want from me? He was the one who left. So why did he act as if I was the one who hurt him?

  The only fully innocent one was Nate. I had no idea how I could make it up to him for dragging him into this mess.

  Allie had not said a word since we left. She was still looking Nate up and down as if he was a delicious meal. I wasn't sure how I felt about that and I had no idea what her game was. All I knew about her was that Thomas was very fond of her, she could seduce a dead man and she saved my life.

  Still, was that a good enough reason to let her ogle my boyfriend?

  We walked into a room with a thousand lit screens and equipment like you'd see in a professional recording studio. I stopped to look at the monitors and realized they were streaming scenes from the party downstairs. One could observe the whole club's activity from that high tower. Had Allie been watching us the whole time?

  The best strategy was to relax, observe and keep a check on my emotions but damn it, it was frustrating. I was used to the role of a queen on the chessboard. Being reduced to a pawn was a huge bruise on my ego.

  "Nice view," I added dryly while staring at the black and white images on the screen.

  Allie stood by me and shrugged with the indifference of a woman who had seen everything in life.

  "It's more interesting to be down below but watching has its perks."

  "Oh, I'm sure you love watching, Mistress Sheila," I said in a more biting voice than I intended. "It's the perfect place for a woman who avoids the spotlight and yet wants to be at the center of events. The question is what you do with the information you get."

  Thomas raised his eyebrow at my snappy comment and crossed his arms over his chest. Nate shifted in his place but chose to stay silent. Allie smiled.

  "Quite a good observation, Lina. I love being able to control the party. And please..." She ran a hand down my shoulder and scratched it with her nails. I didn't notice when she had taken off her gloves. Air froze in my lungs and the heat inside me rose to new levels. What was the deal with this woman?

  Allie leaned forward and brought her lips closer to mine. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the men were watching us with growing interest. Neither of them seemed displeased with her behavior. Of course!

  "Call me Allie." She smirked and pulled away. That left me strangely disappointed. Tease. "We're all friends in here, aren't we?"

  "Oh yes..." Thomas interrupted with his growling voice. "We have so much in common. It's like we've known each other for years." He eyed me when he uttered those words. I clenched my jaw and fists.

  "Anyway..." Allie went back to staring at my boyfriend. She acted as if she didn't notice all the pent-up tension in the room. "We all had more than enough of the view downstairs. How about we move there for some refreshment?" She pointed with a thumb to a door at the opposite end of the room.

  "That would be good." Something struck me. "Any chance I could use the bathroom? I need to fix my makeup."

  "I disagree." Allie turned her wicked charm to me. "You look ravishing with your melting makeup. Don't you agree, Thomas?"

  His gaze flashed with dark lust, a look I recognised from our old dungeon days.

  "You know me well, Allie. A woman always looks her best with makeup smeared all over her face... and other liquids."

  My insides clenched at his words. He often used to say that to me on those Friday nights when I went to his house.

  "The bathroom is down there." She pointed. "Ta
ke my advice, Lina. Your mascara won't stay on for too long. Don't waste too much time on it. We'll be waiting for you."

  Allie led Nate and Thomas inside the mysterious 'refreshment' room. What if I threw caution to the wind and joined them? She was right. The way the evening was going I wouldn't be too surprised if I ended up with streaks of ruined mascara all over my cheeks. Why even pretend?

  I needed a few minutes to myself to recover from the shock. 'Our' Mistress wouldn't give me any privacy for the rest of the evening.

  As soon as I entered the bathroom, I leaned against the door and sighed with relief. Other parts of my body required attention. The pulsing of my clit and its profuse wetness were driving me crazy. I had to do something about it.

  It was the first time in ages when I needed to pleasure myself.

  I rolled the dress up my body and pushed the drenched silk panties down. It was such a guilty pleasure to touch my smooth skin, soaked with thick, overflowing juices. They could probably hear me outside. I jammed two fingers into my cunt and rubbed my clit aggressively. My manicure bruised its tender hood.

  Nate and I had sex almost every time we saw each other. Save for that, my erotic urges were still on the back burner. I never played with myself. The sex toys in my secret drawer had been gathering dust. I'd even tried to make peace with the thought that my sexuality had died together with my relationship with Thomas.

  Here I was, in an anonymous bathroom, fingers buried inside me to the second knuckle. No matter how hard I was fucking myself, I knew I'd need a lot more than mere fingers.

  I closed my eyes and thought of the scene downstairs... or at least some version of it.

  Thomas is on stage and circles around me. I'm bound to a St. Andrew's cross, with my back to the thirsty audience. Their ecstatic calls are easy to hear. Laughter, moans and echoing steps. He gets closer behind me. His presence is rubbing off on me, a breeze against my warm thighs and exposed pussy.

  A sudden lash in the air.