by Kelly Favor
“Is that an elevator?” she asked, pointing to the right, where a large cylindrical tube with darkly tinted windows ran from floor to ceiling.
“We can’t be expected to take the stairs,” Red joked. “That would be criminal.
You want to get in and see the second floor?”
“I’d like to stay on this floor and see some of the other rooms first,” she told him.
“Absolutely. Right this way, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
He showed her the dining room, with the enormous candelabra hanging over the giant, ornate dining table. And then onto the living room, which somehow felt presidential to Nicole, with its immaculate white walls, blue furniture and gold curtains. There was a beautiful fireplace and hearth, above which a very expensive looking plasma TV screen had been mounted.
“I think you’ll enjoy this kitchen,” Red told her, as they made their way into the wide-open space with rich hardwood floors, beautiful granite countertops, two giant islands and breakfast nook. There were double stainless steal ranges, built for professional cooking and entertaining large groups. The refrigerator was big enough to fit a couple of full-sized cows if they’d wanted to do so.
“I’m speechless,” Nicole said, gawking.
“It beats the little kitchenettes in Manhattan and Brooklyn by a country mile, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. It sure does.”
He turned and pulled her to him, staring into her eyes. “And it’s all yours now,” he said. “I want you to feel at home here, because it’s your home.”
“I might need some time to get used to the idea.”
He kissed her then, in the middle of that spectacular kitchen, and she kissed him back with everything in her. “Come on,” he said, smiling devilishly, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her as he started to run.
“Where are we going?” she cried, giggling.
“The master bedroom!” he shouted, tugging her. She could barely keep up with him. They ran to the foyer and took the stairs all the way up.
The master bedroom was itself as big as most luxury apartments, Nicole thought.
Decorated tastefully in whites and browns (white carpet and walls, brown dressers, curtains and trim), it was actually split into two levels. “You realize your bedroom has a staircase?”
she asked him.
“Where else would we put the hot tub but the second level?” he replied. When she gave him a look of astonishment, he laughed. “What can I say? I like the modern touch.”
Aside from just the sheer size of it, the bedroom also had a desk, a couch, coffee table, chairs, a beautifully large bed, and windows overlooking the entire property.
“Hold on, let me light the fireplace,” he said, moving gracefully to the hearth—she hadn’t even seen it at first—and picking up a remote control. A moment later, a bright flame kindled and he set it to the perfect level.
He turned to look at her. “You’re freaking out,” he said, more a statement of fact than question.
“Just a little.” She walked to the bed and sat on it. It gave way beneath her, soft and luxurious.
Red smiled. “All of this is nice. The beautiful scenery, the pond, the marble floors and kitchens and every amenity a person could dream of. But in the end, without you here, this place is just empty—a museum.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
He crossed to the bed and kneeled in front of her. “It’s true, Nicole. I’ve lived here an entire year, and most of the time I only use a few of the rooms. It gets lonely in a big, expensive palace with nobody to share it.”
“You could have brought dozens of women back here. Any of those lovely ladies that you took back to your apartment in the city would have come to this mansion.”
“I know that,” he said. “But I didn’t want any of them the way I want you.”
Her heart started to beat more quickly now. “Why me?”
Red put his hands on her knees and then her thighs, sliding beneath the silky material of her skirt. “Why you? Because, when I look in your eyes, you let me see you.
You don’t hide from me,” he told her. His warm hands began to slide further and further up her legs.
“That feels nice,” she said softly as he warmed her with his sensual touch.
His eyes darkened. “But I like that you don’t always want nice.”
“That’s true,” she said.
“Sometimes you want to be naughty, don’t you?”
She nodded at him, smiling in a way that implied more than words could ever do.
He stood up and walked to the closet. Seconds later, he came out with a jet-black blindfold and handcuffs dangling from his hands.
She crossed her legs and waited for him, that part of her getting hot and slick with anticipation. He was looking at her now with intense hunger, desire, and his wanting her made her hotter still.
“Stand up,” he said, commanding her now.
“Yes, sir.” She got to her feet instantly—standing tall, chin up, like a good little soldier. This made Nicole smile a little for some reason. She was in Red’s army now.
“What’s so funny?” he asked her, his eyes darkening.
“Nothing sir.”
“You’ll be punished for your glib attitude,” he said, and his nostrils flared. “Your backside’s going to be hot pink before the night’s over.”
She nodded at his statement, pictured her bare bottom as his palm crashed against it while her flesh shivered beneath his magnificent, firm hand.
Nicole controlled her expression, remaining calm and composed on the outside, even though her thighs quivered in anticipation of his touch. There would be some pain—
just a little bit—and then there would be pleasure. Red doled out pleasure and pain as if he was a chef with a special recipe; Hot and sweet, sweet and sour. Red mixed the ingredients to perfection.
She never knew quite what to expect, and this time was no different, as Red tied the blindfold around her head. Next, he put her hands behind her back and then slipped the handcuffs over her wrists, clicking them into place. They were tight but not too tight.
“Stand perfectly still, Nicole.”
She did exactly as he requested, anxiously awaiting his touch. Suddenly, he ripped her skirt down to her ankles and tore her blouse open. She felt him tearing at her bra, and it came off with a popping sound. She was mostly naked now; she could feel the cool air of the room against her bare skin.
Her entry was slick and wet and completely visible. With the blindfold on, Nicole could feel her heat down there, the vulnerability of it, but she didn’t know if Red was looking at it or not.
“You’ve been giving me a lot of trouble, lately,” he growled at her, and his voice actually trembled with anger. “Shooting your questions at me, complaining and whining in my office, behaving like a spoiled child. Do you think I should be subjected to that?”
“No, sir,” she whispered. She was sweating, her forehead was hot and the blindfold was scratchy against her face.
“You must learn. You must learn that I am in charge, and your trust in me has to be complete and without question. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Do you deserve punishment for all of your misdeeds?”
“I do.”
“Good.” His voice was further away. She could hear him walking on the soft carpet, but couldn’t tell where he was going. For a little bit, it was just silent in the room and she stood in her solitary darkness, naked and waiting.
And then she heard him treading back to her. His hand was on her shoulder, spinning her around and then pushing her forward so that she fell onto the bed with her butt in the air. His hands were on her hips, pulling her panties down to her ankles. Seconds later, she heard a whooshing sound and then her ass was stinging as something whipped against her skin.
At first she thought he was using a belt, but it didn’t feel as hard and painful as a belt. Also, it seemed as thoug
h there were tassels, so that when he slapped her butt, these little strands slapped her skin.
It was more intense than a spanking from Red’s hand would have been, she thought, and a little scary. He was using an actual weapon of some sort on her—a tool of his trade.
But as Red continued to spank her with the thing—whatever it was—she started to relax into it. Sometimes he almost tickled her with it, swishing the strands across her behind in the most seductive way. And having that against her skin instead of Red’s touch, simply made her crave his touch that much more.
She heard him drop the instrument to the floor and then his weight was pressing down upon her back. His hot breath was on her earlobe. “Your ass is bright red from the beating I gave it, Nicole. Does that make you wet?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Let me see for myself.” He reached his hand around, between the bed and her skin, and soon he was sliding around her pussy, rubbing it, exploring it. The sensations of pleasure were almost too much for her to bear. “Oh god,” she cried.
“Don’t come,” he said, almost angrily. “I haven’t given you permission yet, slut.”
The word slut made her flinch.
“You’re my slut,” he said, as if clarifying. “And mine alone. Only for me, isn’t that correct?”
“I’m your slut,” she told him.
“I can do with you whatever I please.”
“Of course.”
“I can take you any way that I please. In your mouth, in your cunt, in your ass.”
She hesitated.
“Answer me, slut.”
“Yes. Any way you desire.” But she was hesitant.
She was still on her stomach, her face pressed against the bed. She could smell the freshness of the coverlet, which smelled of detergent and perhaps a spray or two of Febreze.
Red’s hands grabbed the back of her legs and pushed them apart so that she was spread eagle on the bed, and then he pushed his face into her wetness, pulling her hips into him as his tongue penetrated her dripping hole.
She had an unexpected orgasm as his tongue pressed first against her clitoris, flicking it multiple times and then searching deeper still.
Her hips bucked and her arms pulled against the handcuffs.
“Did you just come?” he asked. His voice was harsh and disapproving.
Ashamed, she nodded mutely.
“I told you not to do that.” He grabbed her beneath her torso and easily lifted her off the bed. She was suddenly standing again, but confused. With the blindfold on, it was difficult to tell where she was facing and there was a sense of vertigo.
“On your knees, my slut.” He took her by the shoulders and pressed her down.
Nicole went to her knees—they dug into the soft carpet. “You’re going to please me now, since you’ve made sure to have your own pleasure first and foremost.”
She heard him unbuckling his trousers and then his hand was under her jaw, grasping it tightly, squeezing until her mouth opened. Suddenly, his erect manhood filled her mouth, large and demanding, thrusting deep into her throat unexpectedly.
“Take it all in,” he told her. “I don’t want you to stop until I tell you to stop.”
She opened her mouth as wide as possible to accommodate his girth. Her tongue slid around his thick shaft, and saliva spilled down her chin. Red moaned softly.
Nicole was actually enjoying it. The blindfold, the handcuffs, the sensation of being out of control.
Red was slowly moving his hips back and forth, sliding himself in and out of her mouth, sometimes nearly withdrawing. And then he would go all the way in, until he could go no further. She wasn’t sure she could take him like that, but after a few minutes she started to have more confidence in herself.
“Yes, my sweet,” he said, as his hips began to move faster.
Blindfolded and handcuffed, only her mouth could do any work. Nicole’s jaw was tiring from her efforts, but she wanted so badly to please him as he’d pleased her. She could feel everything now—the stinging sensations on her rear end from where he’d spanked her, the tightness on her wrists, the taste of him and his excitement as it built and built.
“I’m going to come now,” he stated, and then he spurted into her mouth and throat, moaning as he did it. “Swallow every last drop, Nicole.”
She did her best. There was a lot of it, and she had a brief moment of panic in the beginning when she thought she might choke. But eventually she was able to swallow everything, and Red withdrew himself from her mouth.
“You did well,” he said, and she could hear from his voice that he was spent.
There were rustling sounds as he pulled his pants up and buckled them, and then she heard him moving closer. He took off the handcuffs first, and then removed the blindfold.
Nicole blinked uncertainly up at him, still on her knees.
He stared down at her with a strange expression on his face. “You should clean yourself up,” he said, softly. “The bathroom is right through that door, and there are towels and everything you need inside.”
“What about a change of clothes?” she asked, rising to her feet and massaging her knees. She had little indentations all over the skin of her knees, from the carpet.
“I bought a few outfits for you yesterday—they’re in the closet to your right. And in this dresser,” he turned and extended his hand toward a dark brown bureau, “you’ll find panties, socks, some tshirts and so forth.”
She smiled and thanked him, but he wouldn’t look at her—at least, not the way he had before this latest sexual interlude.
“Is everything okay?” she asked him.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, looking away. “When you’re done with your shower, I’ll be in the study.” Red pointed through the doorway. “Just through that hall, and then to the left.”
“Okay.” She nodded, suddenly wanting to cry. She bit her bottom lip.
He turned and left the room without looking back.
What happened just now? She thought, walking as if in a daze. She found a kind of summery dress that she liked in the closet. It was strange thinking that Red had bought these clothes for her to wear—or more likely, paid someone else to do it—as if he’d planned everything down to the last detail.
Had he known a week ago that he was going to do this to her, put her in handcuffs, spank her with that thing, and then have her give him oral on her knees?
Nicole had a strange, sick feeling in her stomach as she went into the master bathroom. Of course it was incredible inside, as big or bigger than the apartment she shared with Danielle. Marble floors, a sauna, a soaking tub with jets, and a large, glass enclosed shower.
She got in the shower and cleaned herself off. When she got out, she noticed that there was a toothbrush encased in plastic, clearly left for her. She opened it and brushed her teeth, changed into the light summer dress, put her hair up in a ponytail.
Nicole made her way to the study—more of a library, really. It had bookcases stretching from one end of the room to the other, filled with hundreds if not thousands of books. There were some comfy chairs where it seemed someone would sit with pipe in hand, smoke and read for hours on end.
Red was sitting in one such chair, near one of the windows, a glass in hand. There was a light amber liquid in the glass, about a third full. His face was drawn and distant as he looked outside into the darkness.
“Hi,” she said, breaking the silence.
He glanced at her briefly and smiled, then returned to staring out the window.
She walked to the bookshelves and began perusing them. They seemed to be alphabetized by the author’s name, rather than subject matter. There were biographies side by side with legal textbooks, next to thrillers written by John Grisham and Stephen King.
“Have you read all of these?” Nicole asked, pulling down a book called The Art of War, by Sun Tzu. She’d heard of it before, but never read it.
Red looked over and saw the book she’d
taken down, and the ghost of a smile came to his lips. “All war is deception,” he said.
She flipped through some of the pages. One block of text popped out at her. It said:
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate.
“You read this book I bet,” she said, holding it up.
Red shrugged. “It’s required reading for military strategists and advertising executives.”
“And for lovers?”
He raised the glass to his lips and gulped the amber liquid down, set the glass on the small table next to his chair. “I prefer my lovers to be more concerned with matters of the heart than tactics of war.”
“So that they’re more easily defeated?” she said.
He looked at her again, and now his eyes were burning with new intensity. “Is that what you think of me?”
She riffled the book’s pages and leaned against the wall in front of him. “I don’t know what to think of you right now.”
“I’m the same person I was an hour ago.”
“Are you?”
He laughed hollowly. “Last I checked.”
“You seem different to me.”
He looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You were different with me tonight,” she said, her chest tightening with anxiety.
“You were rougher with me than usual.”
He grimaced, his hand toying with the nearly empty glass by his side. “I didn’t realize it,” he sighed. “Maybe I was. I can be a little unpredictable when I’m feeling stressed.”
She looked at the Art of War book once more. “You’re stressed?” she said, flipping through the pages, thinking about war and manipulation and deceit. “I wish you’d told me.”
Red looked at her, and his eyes were cold. “Don’t play head games with me, Nicole.”
Startled, she immediately became defensive. “How am I the one playing games?
You had me blindfolded, handcuffed, making up new rules…”
Red flinched angrily, but seemed to regain his composure. “What we did tonight wasn’t a game. And I don’t owe you any explanations about my stress levels or anything else, for that matter.”