Enthrall Climax

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Tell me about her?”

  He rolled onto his back and reached for the TV remote, flicking through the channels.

  I closed my eyes and dozed off.

  When I woke it was to the sound of the door opening—Chastain was carrying in a tray. “I brought you something.”

  I slid off the bed and padded out to the bathroom. When I came back he’d rested the tray on a corner table.

  “Beef Bourguignon.” He pulled a chair out for me.

  I joined him at the table and ate.

  “Have some bread.” He pointed to it. “Dip it in the sauce.”

  “Did you really chop off someone’s finger?”

  “That’s hardly dinner conversation.”

  Jesus, he had. “Why?”

  “She deserved it.”

  The bite of bread I’d just eaten swelled in my throat and I swallowed hard. “Is Cameron here?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  I dabbed my mouth with the napkin. “What’s the hunt?”

  He held my stare. “We can talk about it later.”

  I watched his expression. “What did you do to Galina?”

  Chastain reached for my arm, pulling my wrist toward him. His forefinger swept over my wrist forming an “H.” His pale eyes held mine. “You will be worshipped, Mia. If you stay.”

  “Is Galina still here?”

  “She’s leaving.”

  “Can I speak with her…before she goes?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to make sure I’m doing everything right to please you.”

  He gave a nod of approval. “Come on.”

  We walked down the longest hallway and I turned to see the Doberman following us. Pascal’s gaze was fixed on his master.

  “She’s in here.” Chastain knocked on the door.

  I waited for him to open it.

  “Return to your room afterward.”

  “I promise.”

  His tap on my nose was affectionate and he snapped his fingers for Pascal to follow him.

  Galina was sitting in a corner chair. She was reading something in a beige folder. She wore a fur coat and looked ready to leave. Her make-up was flawless and her hair was styled to perfection.

  She looked up. “What do you want? Where’s Chastain?”

  I raised my head with pride.

  Her stare flitted to the door. “Be quick. I’m leaving.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  Her gaze narrowed and she pushed herself out of her seat, moving slowly toward me. “You want to wallow in how much I suffered at Chastain’s hands?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’m a better person than you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Why is Helete angry with Cameron?”

  She gave me a smug smile. “He wants our premiere submissive.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” She threw the folder onto the bed. “He’s tired of you.”

  You’re lying.

  My throat tightened, but I forced out the question. “Who is she?”

  “Someone very beautiful. And very special. She is your opposite. She speaks five languages. Plays the piano. She is only eighteen and has already mastered chess. She is the greatest fuck. So well trained. She once thrived here…unlike you.”

  “How do you mean?” My voice wavered.

  “She is perfect for a man like Cole.”

  Bile rose into my throat and I struggled to swallow it.

  “He wants what he can’t have,” she said.

  “Why did she leave here then? If it’s so wonderful?”

  Galina’s glare snapped over to the door and she looked worried.

  As though she’d said too much.

  “I don’t believe a word you’ve said.”

  “We’re done here, Mia.”

  “Cameron will kill you for what you’ve done to me.”

  “Do you know why Helete sent you here?”

  My heart pounded in my chest.

  “After Zie had her fun at Chrysalis, Cameron no longer wanted her. She was tainted as far as he was concerned.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You’ll share her fate, Mia.”

  Fear clutched at my heart. “Chastain has promised no one will touch me.”

  “Until tomorrow night.”

  The hunt?

  “You’re going to be part of one of Hillenbrand’s most prestigious games.”

  “I’ll refuse to play.”

  “That would make it very easy for them to catch you.”

  “They won’t let you leave either.”

  Her head fell back in a laugh. “Chastain honored me last night.” She eased up her left sleeve to show me the tattooed “H” on her wrist, overshadowed with inflammation.

  I caressed my wrist as though feeling the sting of the brand I was being threatened with. “Chastain promised.”

  She reached for her handbag. “I’ll give your regards to Zie.”

  I followed her along the hallway until she reached the top of the stairs. A young man wearing a tuxedo was standing at the bottom of the steps staring up at us. “Go back to your room, Mia.”

  I ignored him. “Please, tell Cameron I’m here, Galina. I’m begging you.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “I’m not quite sure what I was expecting here.”

  “Mia,” shouted the man. “Do you want me to come up there?”

  “Galina?” I pleaded.

  She’d made it halfway down when she stopped, turning to taunt me with a smirk.

  “I forgive you,” I called out.

  Her frown deepened and a rash of conflicted emotions flashed over her face.

  “Mia!” the man yelled.

  Turning sharply, I headed back to my room.

  I didn’t know why I’d said that, maybe hoping she’d find it in her heart to tell Cameron I was here.

  In a daze, I walked into the bedroom and crumpled on the bed.

  Had Cameron found someone new?

  No, don’t doubt him.

  With these thoughts burning in my brain, I tossed and turned late into the night.

  I awoke in a sweat-drenched panic.

  Not caring about my skimpy attire, I climbed off the bed and pushed open my door. Tiptoeing toward the staircase, I felt a draft blow over my skin, giving me gooseflesh.

  Oh, no…

  Pascal was sleeping in the foyer.

  I moved slowly down the steps.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he raised his head. I carefully turned and walked in the opposite direction toward the kitchen.

  The pots and pans and dirty plates were now gone. Everything from last night had been cleaned away…everything except the memory.

  A flash of inspiration hit me and I hurried over to the refrigerator. In the back on the lowest shelf was a stack of beef labeled as Kobe. This shit was expensive. Like hundreds of dollars a pound expensive.

  Pascal was about to be spoiled.

  With my bribe carried in its paper wrapping, having just pulled it apart into several bite size pieces, I checked to make sure the way was clear and then headed into the foyer.

  “Pascal,” I whispered, throwing a chunk down.

  He had the look in his eyes of an animal that knew it was about to get duped, but was too interested in the scent of delicious meat to make a good decision.

  “Come on, boy.” I threw down another chunk.

  He sniffed and then wolfed it down, wanting more. I broke off another piece and threw it. In less than a minute, I had my hand on the door knob.

  It was unlocked.

  I lay the rest of the meat down, then slipped outside and closed the door behind me. Barefoot, I sprinted toward the gate. At the front of the house were several potted trees. I dug around the base of one and ripped out the small trunk, spilling the soil, and then laid it on its side. With a shove, I had the pot rolling toward the gat
e. With another heave I had it upside down. Standing on it, I was able to reach for the top of the gate and hoist myself up and over, dangling.

  I stared down at the ground, wrestling with fear. If I fell wrong, I could break a leg. My arms felt the strain of my weight, my fingers burned.

  Pascal barked.

  I slid down and landed badly, pain wracking me from feet to shins as I rolled on the ground. I lay there for a minute, catching my breath.

  I forced myself up, gritting my teeth in agony while staring at a road that could lead to freedom. When the feeling of agony lifted enough for me to begin hobbling, I headed down the tree-lined road. Trying to shake off the lingering terror, I sped up until I was sprinting.

  A motorbike came to life and the wooden gate opened.

  My feet carried me faster along the asphalt, but I knew I’d make it if I could just reach the bend ahead and then bolt into the woodland. With heavy gasps and aching limbs, I fought the urge to glance back.

  The bike roared by in a gust of wind and skidded to a stop ten feet in front of me—cutting me off.

  Another bike zoomed by in a flash, almost knocking me over. It skidded to a stop farther down. Both helmet-wearing men were looking in my direction. They dismounted their bikes.

  I was so close. All I had to do was get by them…

  I bolted left and went for it, but one of the men leaped right and grabbed me from behind. I struggled in his ironclad grasp, kicking my legs and wriggling to get free.

  A flash of bright headlights shone our way and I shielded my eyes from the glare, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe. A silver sports car pulled up and idled a few feet away.

  Chastain climbed out of the driver’s seat and strolled around to the passenger door, opening it wide.

  “I want to go home!” I burst out.

  “You are.”

  The men dragged me toward him.

  “You’ve made a terrible mistake, Mia,” he said.

  “You can’t do this to me!”

  “When we get back, put her in the dungeon,” he ordered coldly.

  My thoughts fractured as I was shoved into the car. When we pulled up to the chateau I was dragged out, kicking and screaming.

  A slap across my face silenced me.

  They manhandled me through long, cold hallways and down a winding staircase.

  I was shoved into a musty cell that smelled of fear. I saw a bed sparsely covered with sheets. I heard the clanging of the door as it was slammed shut.

  Then blackness enveloped me.

  After a while, my vision adjusted to the darkness and I gripped the bars, screaming into the echoing chamber until my voice gave out.

  Hours went by. I paced like a caged animal. Eventually, I flopped onto the bed and felt the assault of the springs beneath my spine.

  Eventually I heard a noise and raised my head off the lumpy pillow.

  The silhouette of a man loomed before me as he entered the cell and locked the gate behind him. He closed the gap between us.

  The shadows fell away from Chastain’s face. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He was carrying an iPad. “Time to see your fate if you mess up again.”

  Dread shot up my spine as I watch him move closer.

  No, I don’t want to see it.

  I didn’t want to watch what they did to that girl’s hand.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks.

  He sat beside me on the bed and it dipped beneath his weight. His finger swiped over the screen. The scent of his expensive cologne wafted over me. I feared I’d never get the smell of it out of my head.

  Chastain held the iPad in front of my face. I stared at the image of a dungeon, recognizing the woman who sat on the end of a bed. She didn’t look afraid, but she did look wary. The camera pulled out to reveal five men standing before her.

  “Galina?” I whispered.

  “So it is,” Chastain said darkly.

  “She showed me her tattoo.” It was easier to look at him than the screen.

  “You’re about to see how she earned it.”

  My gaze was on Galina and his was on mine as I watched the recording.

  Galina pushed herself up and the men moved toward her, helping her undress. My hand slapped to my mouth when I realized…

  She sank to her knees and the scene unfolded like an erotic painting that had stirred to life, a visceral vision of a dominatrix being outnumbered. Her fate was set as she accepted their cocks offered one by one, suckling and pleasuring the men as a prelude to what was about to unfold…a fusion of alpha power and a vixen’s submission.

  “Why doesn’t she try to run?” I whispered.

  “She chose them.” His eyes crinkled into a smile. “Am I not merciful?”

  “I won’t try to escape again.”

  “Eyes on the screen, Mia.”

  THE TREE-LINED LANE OPENED UP to reveal a white gothic hilltop chateau. Within minutes our car was idling before a massive wooden gate. When it opened, we drove through and I noticed the walls surrounding us. The place was like a fortress.

  We left the car and entered through the unlocked door. We were being watched from somewhere, I knew, with a suffocating focus that carried a threat. A valet unloaded our suitcases and carried them up the staircase.

  I took in the country décor and breathed in the scent of male domination. My gaze snapped to three naked female submissives who hurried through the foyer. Mia wasn’t one of them. They followed their master, who walked several steps ahead of them. When he turned and berated one of them for lagging behind, I knew we’d arrived at the correct destination.

  We were greeted by a young, smiling male submissive, wearing leather pants and a tight leather collar. He escorted us in an easterly direction. We ended up in a swanky office that smelled of lemon furniture polish. The décor was all antique pieces with a gothic flair.

  We were instructed to wait.

  Noting the subject matter of the books scattered along the shelves, whoever this room belonged to loved to travel. I suspected it was Chastain, since many of the volumes were about Africa. Resting on the seat of a leather chair was a paddle and a discarded ball gag. The thought that either of these had been used on Mia caused my back to stiffen.

  My adrenaline scorched my veins. As the jetlag lifted, it would give me the strength to search every room. I’d tear this place apart until I found her.

  “Do you think there’ll be another test?” Shay whispered.

  There came a knock on the door.

  The master of the house had again sent in one of his finest to welcome us—this time in the guise of a handsome twenty-something male with designer stubble. The tailored suit he wore fit his physique well, but something in the way he walked revealed he preferred more casual clothes.

  “Hey, there,” he greeted us with a warm smile and a sharp British accent. “How was your flight?”

  “Great.” I reached out and shook his hand, then he turned and held Shay’s gaze for a beat too long.

  He pulled the door shut behind him. “I’m Alton.”

  If he wanted our names he wasn’t getting them. I assumed the guests paid well for the privilege of privacy.

  Alton shoved his hands into his pockets. “We have a brief initiation.”

  I gave Shay a reassuring glance. “Whatever you need.”

  He nodded and then asked, “Would you like to freshen up?”

  Shay leaned back against the desk. “We showered on the plane.”

  Alton rounded the desk and reached for two brochures with the Hillenbrand logo stamped on the front. “Let the concierge know if you want anything not offered on the lists,” he said, handing them to us. “We’ll make it happen.” He paused and then added, “I think you’ll find that most proclivities are covered.”

  I flicked through the brochure that was a catalogue of the specialties offered, and all of it made the porn industry seem tame—exactly what Hillenbrand was famous for.
r />   And then I saw it. “You still have the hunt?”

  “Yes, we have one tonight,” he said. “VIPs only. You won’t be able to participate, but you will be able to enjoy the scene afterward.”

  My fists curled, longing to rearrange his face.

  “Looks fantastic,” said Shay. “How does one become a VIP?”

  “Through our Grand Master.” Alton gave a nod. “He selects members. These events are carefully managed as they’re outside. Still on the property, but the risk of an escape is real. We tag them so if anything goes wrong we can get them back.”

  “Do they try to escape often?” asked Shay.

  He gave a thin smile and held my gaze. “We had one last night who tried to bolt. An American.”

  “What happened to her?” My throat tightened.

  “We’ve locked her in a dungeon.”

  My blood turned ice-cold.

  “You like dungeon play?” asked Alton. “We can set you up down there if you like?”

  “Dungeons it is.” I glanced at Shay.

  Alton gestured for us to follow. “We suspected you’d be into the dungeons so we have a scene ready for you.”

  If Mia was in the room he was about to lead us to, I’d tear every last man apart in her vicinity.

  The route we took had us walking through a maze of rooms. We had no choice but to follow Alton down the winding staircase.

  We stopped in a cavernous dungeon and its main focal point was a four-poster bed in the center. Sitting on it were three naked female submissives wearing diamond collars. Their curious gazes flitted to Shay and then back to me. They didn’t look scared…yet.

  A long table to the left was strewn with the kind of torture instruments meant for a museum.

  Alton motioned toward the bed. “They’ve been selected for you.”

  I held Alton’s gaze to see if the fucker knew who we were. He was hard to read.

  My gaze slid over to the right wall and a large rectangle of two-way glass—whatever was about to happen could be watched from the other side. Shay threw me a wary glance when he read my conflicted emotions.

  “Enjoy our delicacies,” said Alton as he walked to the door. “Remember, to refuse our gift would be considered rude.”

  “What would happen if we declined?” Shay risked the question.

  Alton looked surprised. “You’d be escorted from the house, gentlemen.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, they’re all well-trained. Afterward, you’ll be free to explore.” He turned to the women. “Serve the house.”