Beyond the Black Curtain

by Hayley White

  “Oh, working. You know.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  “Yours, too.”

  There was a slight pause.

  “Oh - Brooke is here,” Ever said, wondering if some savage, tear away portion of her mind might be attempting retaliation against the news about Nicole.

  “Is he? You don’t mind him dropping by?”

  “Oh no.”

  “I did ask him to look in on you.”

  “Yes, he said so.”

  “Well, I really didn’t like leaving you alone that way.”

  “I’m a big girl.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, “although it is odd, not having you here.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but this may take a few weeks.”

  “I understand.”

  There was another pause on the line.

  “Have you and Brooke...?”

  “No,” Ever replied, instantly reading his meaning. “You didn’t indicate your feeling on the matter.”

  “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.”

  “I guess it depends on Brooke,” Ever said.

  “And how would you feel about it?”

  “Alright, I suppose.”

  “You and he seem to have mended your bridges.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Well, I don’t mind, if you both want to – so long as he doesn’t steal you away!”

  Ever chuckled again. “Not much chance of that.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Ever was glad to hear him say so.

  “Why don’t you put Brooke on?”

  Ever’s heart stuttered. “Alright. Hold on...”

  Ever called Brooke into the study. “It’s Stroud,” she said, handing him the receiver.

  “Stroud! How are things in the land of croissants and can-can dancers?” There was a pause as Stroud spoke his response. “Is there anything I can do? Yes... Yes, I will... Glad to... Oh fine... Yes, she’s fine...”

  There was a long pause and Brooke’s eyes tracked Ever as she migrated from one location to another around the study.

  “If you think so...” Brooke said. “I understand... Yes,” he chuckled, “that’s certainly so... Okay. Listen; take care of yourself, my friend... Oh, I will... Come back soon. Ever,” he said softly and she actually jumped. He held the receiver out to her. “Stroud wants to talk to you.”

  Ever nodded slightly and took the receiver. “Yes?” she said softly.

  Brooke was back on the sofa in the sitting room when Ever returned from the study. She stopped in the middle of the floor, meeting his eyes with some difficulty.

  “He said—”

  “I know.”

  Ever hesitated. “Do you want to stay a while?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “It’s really up to you.”

  “I suppose it is.”

  He held her gaze a moment longer and Ever was forced to acknowledge that her pulse had not slowed one jot since Stroud brought up the possibility of Brooke’s availing himself of her in his absence.

  “Why don’t you take off your clothes?”

  Ever began to undress and Brooke went to the service table for her manacles. Her clothes were left in a small pile on the living room floor as Brooke led her upstairs by the chain between the manacles.

  Although Brooke hadn’t spent an enormous amount of time in Stroud’s secret play room, he had no trouble finding what he wanted. Within five minutes, he had Ever strung up to the center beam, her legs spread and secured by ankle cuffs and chains extended to the rings screwed into the base boards. There were no safety nets. Brooke had fastened her arms out separately with chain fed through the manacle rings, the loose ends of which he locked to the beam rings, high out of reach.

  As he turned away, she worked the manacles around her wrists, enabling her to grip the chains with her hands, and maneuvered her feet to insure the most balanced stance possible. He’d drawn her out pretty tightly. There wasn’t a lot of play.

  Luckily, he had applied neither blindfold nor gag. For the time being, at least, she’d be able to see what he was doing and openly voice her sentiments. Little did she know at that moment how deliberate these omissions in her bondage were.

  Brooke had left his jacket downstairs. He was standing now, in plain view, leant against the edge of the table, one leg casually crossed over the other.

  “What will you do for me tonight?” he said in a soft, speculative tone. He was watching his hands as he carefully rolled his shirtsleeves. “You know, I’ve been curious about something for some time now.”

  “What would that be?” Ever asked, already set on guard by his mood and trying hard not to show it.

  “I want to know what Stroud did to make you finally acquiesce to me.” His eyes flicked up. “Do you want to tell me about that?”

  No. She did not.

  When they came upstairs, Brooke brought his favorite whip – the crop. He’d placed it on the counter and now reached for it.

  “I can see you’re not in a talkative mood,” he remarked, noting the tension sealing Ever’s lips. “Let’s see if I can’t coax you into a more conversational disposition.”

  Ever braced herself as Brooke stepped around behind her. The bonds held her secure against the solid blows of the crop. Ever hung on, suppressing her grunts as well as possible, praying he would not think to turn his assault to the delicate, inner flesh of her spread thighs. Fifty blows did not move her to speak and Brooke broke off.

  “You’re quite the tough one, aren’t you?” he questioned, stroking her welted backside with the palm of his hand. “Judging by what I’ve witnessed over these past months, I can just imagine what it must have taken to break you down...” He continued stroking in a circular motion. “I’ll bet he brought you in here, didn’t he?” He gave her buttock a slap and Ever gasped in surprise. “What did he do? Oh, what did he do...?”

  Brooke moved away and began slowly circumnavigating the room, inventorying everything as he went. “Did he use a whip? Ah, well, we both know how far he’d get with that.”

  Ever followed him with watchful, suspicious eyes. Now he was at the bank of small stacked drawers on the table opposite her, searching, searching.

  “Cold... Cold... Cold...” he murmured to himself.

  Ever’s heart skipped a beat as Brooke’s hand reached for another drawer handle. That was the one. She’d been in here often enough to know that. The thing was, would Brooke guess it?

  “Ah,” he said and she knew. “Hot, hot, hot!” He took out one object, inspected it, then reached in for a second. Brought them both over and held them up for her to see.

  “Did he use this?” he asked, holding up the more conservatively sized of two butt plugs. “Or this?” He showed her the second. Ever’s mouth compressed again. “Or, perhaps one, then the other...” he speculated, dancing them before her eyes, like puppets.

  “Did he use this, sweetheart?” he asked again, pressing the minor tool against her lips. “Did he?” he snapped and Ever jumped, jerking her face away from the offending object.

  “Yes! Yes. Alright.”

  Brooke nodded slowly. “And I’ll bet you resisted, didn’t you?”

  Ever sighed, her face still turned away.

  “But it did no good, did it? He put it in you anyway.”

  He moved in very close, speaking into her upturned ear. “And it worked, didn’t it? Worked like a charm. Stole away your fear of me... Or did it?”

  Ever’s eyes were clamped shut, her breath coming in tight little chugs. Brooke pressed his hand to the ribs under her left breast.

  “Your pulse is fast, slave. Fear? Or anticipation? Which could it be?”

  He looked again at the tool of Ever’s terror. “Do you still need this to prepare you for me?” He looked back at Ever who had managed to open her eyes to keep watch on him. “Or can you now accept what I offer you without its friendly assistan
ce?” A cruel little smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Care to test it?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ever replied, barely able to choke the words out.

  Brooke’s smile broadened slightly as he moved away again. Ever didn’t see, but she heard the snap of the lid on the tube of lubricating gel, by now a sound as familiar as any other.

  “Oh no, please don’t…”

  Ignoring her plea, Brooke applied the lubricant and inserted the vile thing, quickly rigging up a rope belt to keep it in place.

  “There. You can’t say I never show mercy to a nervous slave girl.”

  Ever was by now fighting the bonds, angry, breathless and scared.

  Brooke was circling her, admiring his work. “Yes. This is quite nice. Wish I’d known about this. Would have been nice to witness your first experience with it.”

  He approached her from behind, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to still her thrashing. His hand played between her rope split cheeks, forcing the plug deeper.

  “How often did Stroud make you wear this?” Brooke asked into her ear. “How often and for how long? It must be a pretty persuasive reminder, hm? A reminder of what you are and what can be done to you...”

  Ever’s eyes were shut again. Her head was thrown back and a strangulated mewling commenced deep in her throat.

  “You’ve apparently experienced this often, and still you whine,” Brooke said, his hand sliding further under, until he contacted the tender vaginal tissue crushed under the tight, crotch splitting rope. “You whine in protest, but your body betrays you. Yes. You’re betrayed. You think you can hide those white hot thoughts, but I know what you’re feeling...”

  He caressed the flesh bulging around the dampened rope and Ever began to huff in rhythmic gasps.

  “You can no longer deny me. You’re no longer free to refuse. Your fear will not protect you. Your denial. You can only tolerate now. Accept.”

  Ever groaned. “Oh, Brooke... Please let me down—”

  “Sir,” he snapped suddenly. “Address me as sir. You’ll show me due respect tonight, or you can hang this way till dawn.”

  “Oh no!” Ever sobbed. “Please...”

  “Sir.”

  “Please sir, let me down...”

  “I’m not in the least ready to let you down,” Brooke said.

  Ever groaned again, tossing her head. “Then please...”

  “Please what?”

  “Please... Sir... Remove the rope... That THING... Please!”

  Brooke embraced her so closely that she had no play of movement whatsoever. And he continued caressing her with his hand because he knew... For once he knew – he had her. She was going to come in his arms and it was HIM, only him.

  Her fists clenched so tightly around the chains her knuckles turned white. Her toes gripped so firmly into the carpet that he feared she’d cramp all the way up to her ass. But he clung on to her, burning with a power he’d never felt before.

  The rope was wet and hot under his hand. He continued his spellbinding caress until finally she froze to stillness, taut as a guitar string ready to snap. Her rib cage expanded against his encircling arm and everything ceased for those few electrifying moments.

  Then it came – rippling up through her weakening knees, her quaking thighs, her bucking hips, and her spine flexed like the uncoiling of a snapping bullwhip. She actually cried out, a raw, animalistic shout that repeated and repeated until he finally slowed the movement of his hand in a gradual and reluctant relinquishment of this potent, yet temporary power.

  Yet he held on as Ever sucked deep, recuperative gulps of air. When he felt she was able to stand on her own, he slowly slid his arm from around her, stood back slightly and waited.

  Ever was a moment or two more in her recovery, but her breathing normalized surprisingly fast. At last she lifted her head and flexed in the restraints. A tiny whimper escaped her.

  “Brooke?” she called in a small voice.

  “Yes,” he said, moving into her line of sight.

  “Please let me down now.”

  Brooke burned into her with a disapproving eye.

  “Please, sir,” Ever amended softly. “Let me down.”

  Brooke’s demeanor did not soften and Ever’s tired heart set up a swifter tattoo. Her wakening body was aware of every stress still placed on it. The manacles, pulling at her tired, numbed arms. The ankle cuffs, still restricting her to this strenuous stance. The sopping rope, that by now was causing a burning irritation against her labia. And the butt plug, still prying that poor, unwilling channel open. Open, for the one who refused to be satisfied with less. Now Brooke’s eyes, burning her with the triumph of his dominance. She was suddenly scared again.

  “You know what will happen when I let you down, don’t you? You know.”

  Ever sagged with a sigh of distress.

  Brooke smiled. “Yes, she knows. Are you sure you want me to let you down?”

  Ever whimpered.

  “Are you sure you want that?”

  What the hell could she say? If she said no, she was asking to be left in this position indefinitely. And how long would that be? Would he really force her to capitulate? How long could she hold out? And what on earth might he do to her in the meantime?

  “I can take just about anything I wish from you, just as you are, you know. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ever murmured, nearly in tears.

  “So, what’s it going to be?”

  What indeed?

  She was still shaken by the intensity of the orgasm as Brooke’s words replayed in her mind. She was thinking of all the weeks of fear and denial. The hard attitude she’d harbored toward him. The resistances she’d put up. A long and mutually stimulating battle for them both.

  But all that had transpired between the very beginning and this crucial moment. All he had put her through, all he had taken. Had she ever actually given him any real pleasure? Had she ever given him anything?

  Her heart was still drumming. The next few minutes would not be easy, but she knew that what he said was the truth. At least for tonight. She could not deny him, and she was not free to refuse. The respect he’d called due, he had rightfully earned.

  “Please, sir. Let me down.”

  Brooke cracked a small, understated smile. With the finesse of a truly experienced master, he postponed fulfilling her request immediately. Without haste, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled the tails loose, and slipped it off his broad shoulders. He removed his shoes and socks, set them aside, and Ever experienced another rush of apprehension as he unzipped his fly and stepped out of his trousers. The sight of him thrilled her. No doubt, Brooke was all man – proud, abrasive, impudent.

  He released her ankles, then lowered her arms. Much to Ever’s chagrin, he did not remove the butt plug, but he did take the precaution of locking her wrists behind her, before dropping her to her knees. He stood over her; his legs slightly astride, and lowered the front of his black, fly-less jockeys, revealing that magnificent cock.

  “Serve me,” he demanded softly and Ever opened her mouth to receive him.

  Gripping her hair with both hands, Brooke guided the action according to his desires. Ever was diligent in her service, determined not to be caught short, and Brooke responded with bestial groans of delight.

  Just as she thought he would relent and unload into her throat, he jerked her back. “Oh, that’s good,” he commended. “I can see how eager you are to please.” He smiled, stepping back. “Now. You requested something else of me, didn’t you?”

  He helped Ever up and stood her facing the end of the padded bondage bench. She pressed forward in a futile effort to evade the hand he slipped between her cheeks to exert more pressure on the detested butt plug.

  “You want me to remove this, don’t you?”

  Ever whimpered, pushing harder against the edge of the bench.

  “Don’t you?” he goaded.

  “Yes, sir...”

  “Bend
over,” he said, shoving her face down on the bench and securing her with a length of rope across her waist. He unlocked the manacles and stretched her arms out, securing them to rings at the sides near the head. He forced her legs apart and, with more rope, tied her ankles and thighs to the legs of the bench.

  Finally, the crotch rope was peeled away, and Ever moaned as he removed the plug slowly, prohibiting the quick expulsion her reflexes would have triggered without his controlling hand.

  The tensions suddenly drained out of Ever’s body, but only momentarily.

  “Are you ready for your rape, slave girl?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ever replied, renewed tensions contradicting her words.

  “Let’s hope so, because your master is not here this time to rescue you.”

  Ever was more than aware of that fact. She knew, whatever happened, Brooke would not be stopped. And she tested the restraints, knowing they would hold her. And she was scared but determined. No matter what, she would not refuse. No matter what.

  Brooke lowered the front of his pants once more and pressed against her, probing the channel he had just emptied for his use. Ever gripped the edges of the bench, muttering a silent incantation of submission. Brooke eased into the tense, yet adequately loosened opening and, as he drove gradually deeper and deeper, the tensions in Ever’s body once again began to subside.

  Brooke took his time, savoring each thrust, until he had taken her to the hilt. Then he paused, forcing her to endure his complete and absolute penetration. Ever was panting but she didn’t utter a sound.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  He drew back and drove forward with more confidence. He continued increasing the speed and force of his thrusts until concern over Ever’s welfare vanished and he was lost in the heat of his rising passions.

  Ever gripped the bench, willing herself to acquiesce to Brooke’s lust and praying that he should find complete fulfillment with her tonight. To heighten the moment, she added her moans to his, taking care that no note of desperation or resistance should detract from his pleasure.

  He climaxed fiercely, ramming her in his excitement, and Ever clamped down hard to keep from screaming. He sagged with a sigh and, in the stillness, Ever was acutely conscious of his continued presence inside her, and of the ropes that still bound her to the bench. It was a moment of profound awareness of her subjugation.