Enthrall Her

by Vanessa Fewings

  “You don’t know what it is to burn.” His hands grasped mine above my head again. “My advice to you is submit. Now.” His twisted his lips arrogantly, his erection digging into my lower abdomen.

  His expression revealed the inevitable.

  “You will never know me.” I sobbed, out of the fear it was true.

  Cameron looked dangerously virile, his unequaled strength holding me in place, unmovable. “Defiance will bring a harsher treatment.” There came a flash of aggressiveness, that dangerous stance, that pressure of his firm body against mine.

  My instincts were screaming at me to get the hell out. “Can I see the rest of the house now?”

  With his defenses down, I’d slip out the back and make my getaway when no one was looking. This plan I liked. It calmed me.

  He let go and stepped back. “Time to sign your contract.”

  I backed away, putting distance between us, unease surging through my veins as I tried to remember how to breathe. My feet came through for me despite these high heels, carrying me swiftly down the hallway and away from him and onward into the foyer. I moved towards the front door, blood surging through my veins and my heart thundering.

  Cameron was fast, fast enough to close in and cut me off.

  He stood between me and the exit. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Hadn’t given it much thought.”

  He stepped back to give me some room. If I wanted to turn and leave, I could. He was giving me the space I needed to be sure.

  “I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” I said.

  “She knows, Mia.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “Your subconscious. She knows we’re close.”

  “What does that mean?” But I knew.

  Cameron really did believe he had what it took.

  Scarlet’s words came back to me, “Before the butterfly emerges from its cocoon, it must first retreat from the world. Next it becomes completely transparent, revealing everything about itself.”

  “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” I said. “I should never have come here.”

  He held that calm demeanor. “It’s time.”

  “What if you end up hating me?”

  “Where I am taking you, there is no room for hate.”

  Tears stung my eyes. I wanted, needed, to believe that.

  “Do you want to know why I like it when you’re afraid?” he said.

  I froze, every taut muscle on high alert.

  “Mia, your psyche knows that change is imminent. Fear stands between you and your future. Your freedom from pain.” He held his hands together as though in prayer. “Do you trust me?”

  I wanted too.

  Bolt through that door and get the hell out.

  My heart wished it was possible to run and stay at the same time. Intrigue mixed with trepidation addled my brain. Cameron was the most beautiful, most brilliant man I’d ever known and he was offering me a lifeline to freedom. Was he? Or was it sex leading me into danger? The thrill of submitting to him weakened my resolve.

  “I will be with you every step of the way,” he said.

  It wasn’t going to work. I was going to lose everything.

  Consequences. There was always an aftermath that followed when getting close to someone. A predictable regret that you’d allowed your heart to open and let them in.

  “Slow your breathing,” he said.

  Steadying my trembling hands, I took in the foyer. This place might have very well been my only chance, yet I had no way of knowing if I’d survive it, or end up permanently damaged even more than I already was.

  “It’s time to heal.”

  I didn’t like it one bit. Weren’t we just meant to be fucking? Hard? All over this house? And sometimes in front of people, if that was what got his rocks off. Wasn’t I just meant to be crawling around on all fours at the end of a chain and doing what I was told so I could get back to a life that promised to be a happy?

  If only I deserved that.

  “It’s time for you to think differently,” he said.

  “How?”

  “As Carl Jung so succinctly puts it, ‘if you think along the lines of nature then you think properly.’”

  “How does nature think?” I whispered.

  He held out his hand to me.

  CHAPTER 19

  “POSSESSION IS THE ultimate pleasure,” said Cameron, admiring my nakedness from a few feet away.

  Had he spoken those words prior to securing me to the Saint Andrew’s Cross in the center of Chrysalis’s dungeon¸ I may well have put up more resistance. This free standing crisscrossed board would allow him full access to my body from every angle. He’d seduced and coaxed me to follow him and I’d gladly held his hand all the way down here, taking the short journey from the foyer into the lowest depths of Chrysalis. Passing door after door, each room begged to be investigated, but we’d not stopped to peek in any of them. We’d entered the room at the end of the hallway.

  The dungeon of his choice.

  Cameron had undressed me and I’d willingly let him, lifting my arms above my head as he’d stripped me. I’d obeyed like a well trained sub as he unhooked my bra strap and removed it. After nudging me back against the fixture, he’d positioned me spread-eagled with my wrists and ankles secured within leather straps. He’d pulled them tight to ensure movement was impossible.

  Operatic music bestowed a sensuous backdrop of soprano’s dramatically vying for attention, an extension of this already exotic mood.

  That daring decision had led me to this.

  Rising from subspace, I opened my eyes as though awakening from a dream. Spellbound, my thoughts spiraled out of control. My body trembled with need and a lust for him to be closer. All I wanted was to have him inside me. That was the only cure I needed. I saw that now.

  Five minutes ago, though it could have been longer, I’d been weighing the pros and cons of bolting out the front door and somehow, in true Cameron style, he’d casually led me into his red walled playroom.

  I’d walked beside him willingly.

  This dungeon was unlike any I’d seen, decorated with the decadence I’d come to expect from him. Several oriental-styled cabinets were flush against each wall and probably contained all sorts of whips, paddles, and other accoutrements. Mirrors and contemporary artwork hung between bronze sconces, providing an ethereal air. Low lights showcased the ceiling fixtures that were perfect for the art of suspension, dangling submissives and leaving them vulnerable, their body’s secured with rope or chains or whatever else the dominant desired. The wonder of floating would ensure they remained in subspace. Sharp hooks were fashioned on the end of some for those with a overly masochistic leaning. I offered a silent prayer he’d never use those on me.

  I wondered if, after our session, I’d get to recover on that regal four poster bed with its carved posts. It was artfully strewn with drapes and chains and leather cuffs, just in case the submissive got too comfortable.

  A rush of excitement flooded my veins and my trembling limbs struggled to be free from these leather bindings. Twisting my wrists, I was shocked by the sting to my flesh. Being ensnared was mesmerizing. These straps felt agonizingly tight and trying to escape them was thrilling.

  I was soaking wet, and my scent gave me away.

  Cameron dragged what felt like a whip along my backside, sending spasms into the center of my universe, soothing, luring, seducing me to surrender.

  His handsome face came into focus and shadows danced over his beautiful features, his stern stance proving he ruled the room. He held up the whip for me to see.

  Cameron had stripped off his jacket and shirt and was now naked from the waist up, his black pants hanging loose over his hips, revealing his muscular sculptured body, that incredible toned torso flexing as he moved.

  He snapped the whip. “Are you worthy of this?”

  “If you deem me worthy, Sir.”

  “I do.”

 
; The strike to my left thigh made me flinch. He continued on, strike after strike, circling my body with the ease of a predator overwhelming its prey. The stinging left bright red welts and they burned and hummed when his strike left them. The snap of the crop between my thighs made me jump. With his left hand, he eased apart my labia and flicked the leather strap across my clit. I let out a cry, and a groan of need. Working at a steady pace, he snapped it continuously until my moaning hinted I was close. He raised the whip to my pelvic bone and slid it along my abdomen, up and over my nipples.

  Satisfied I’d calmed, he again lowered the whip, torturing my pussy once again with the curl of leather, teasing and striking, flicking and patting.

  He ceased those delicious strikes, his face reflecting the triumph of masculine control. “Mia, you are soaking wet. Good girl.”

  I shuddered when he squeezed my clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Who does this belong to?”

  “Well as it’s on my body, I can only assume it belongs to me,” I said.

  He threw the whip down and disappeared behind me.

  Oh no. I really was out of my mind.

  The rustle of an envelope being ripped open.

  He reappeared, holding what looked very much like my contract. “See this?”

  It was the same one I’d placed on his foyer table, being the good submissive I’d hoped to become.

  “Untie me,” I said, “So I can take a closer look.”

  Cameron flashed a heart stopping smile. “Nice try.”

  My mouth was dry and thirsting. “We were going to go over the hard limits, remember?”

  Cameron’s gaze left the contract and held mine. “As your dominant, I deem which hard limits are appropriate.”

  That was confusing and a little scary, but as we were role-playing. I lowered my voice, trying to play along. “Sir, perhaps we could just discuss them then.”

  He blinked at me. “No need.”

  My breathing was now ragged. “I mean before we go any further?”

  “Any further?”

  “Before you do anything else,” I said. “Before we start.”

  He glanced at the whip on the floor. “We’ve started. You gave your consent after you trespassed into my Beverly Hills home. Selective memory, Mia?”

  “Cameron. Sir—”

  “There’s been a change of plan,” he said darkly, throwing the contract into the air and letting it spiral to the floor. He stepped forward with lightning speed, firmly gripping either side of my head and attacking me with a kiss, forcefully crushing my lips. He stole my reason, my will to fight, his lips forcing my mouth wider open only to deliver brutal and dominant strokes of his tongue lashing mine, punishing, controlling.

  He broke away.

  I came up for air. “We’ll start slow, right?”

  Cameron looked thoughtful. “We’ll do silence. How about that?”

  His mouth met my nipple and he dragged his teeth along its pertness, grazing and elongating, sending a shockwave of bliss.

  “Safe word,” I said quickly. “We didn’t agree on one.”

  “We talked about this, remember?”

  “Remind me.”

  “Shall I define silence?”

  This was meant to be about trust, opening up, savoring sensuality with your partner. Richard had told me that. This, whatever Cameron was doing here, was far from the reaches of my understanding. This was off the charts.

  This was mind blowing.

  “Yield, Mia,” he said. “I’ve promised you pleasure. It comes in many forms.”

  My heart pounded against my chest. Blood roared through my ears.

  He whispered close to my ear, something about the rewards of surrender, and he fingered my sex and it rippled around him, clenching. He withdrew his fingers and I groaned my disappointment. Then he eased those damp fingers into my mouth and I suckled, tasting myself and swooning at this erotic act.

  “This is what I do to you,” he said. “Trust your body. Trust your mind.”

  “I need this.” I yearned for release. “Please, Sir.”

  He strolled over towards the cabinet and reached inside. He removed a long, thick leather strap.

  Cameron was behind me now and I knew what was to follow, needing this more than breathing itself. He was going to purge my pain.

  The first strike to my buttock made me jolt. Another and another came fast. His masterful strikes now found my thighs, my lower back, my sex, helping me ease into the rhythm. Sensations poured into my flesh. Interwoven sparks of pain and pleasure, making it impossible to separate the two. Aware of only this, lost in an inner landscape of nothingness, I was absorbed by this well crafted tempo of bites to my skin.

  He used his hands, taking his time to caress the stings, soothing this burn, pinching this soreness, lulling me.

  When he applied the sharp spiked nipple clamps, I gritted my teeth, wanting to prove I could endure this delicious agony. They punctured the edges of my areolas, shooting orgasmic pleasure between my thighs. He tugged each one and then together, sending stabs into each sensitive nub, and my juices trickled down my inner thigh.

  Eyes bleary, I watched him fetch the delicate vibrator, and with a flick he’d fired it up. He traced it over my belly and lower still. The vibration felt heavenly against my skin, as though he’d prepared my flesh simply for this.

  The sex toy met my clit and thrummed away.

  “Oh, God,” I burst out.

  He pulled it back. “Did I give you permission to talk?”

  “No, Sir, sorry Sir.”

  “May I continue uninterrupted?” he warned.

  A quick nod, then I squeezed my eyes shut, exalting when that buzz found my pussy again, circling and bouncing and pressing until all thoughts scattered out of reach. The climax swept over me and I gasped, hoping Cameron would allow me this. My lips formed a pout.

  When I opened my eyes, he was studying me with that same scrutiny. “What do you say?”

  “Thank you, Sir,” I managed.

  “Good girl.” He lay the vibrator down on a back table. “Do you think you are worthy to come again?”

  “Only if you deem me ready, Sir.”

  He eased off the clamps. First one and then the other.

  My body trembled with the letting up of this pang. He massaged my nipples to soothe their sting and ran his thumb over each one, sending me into a near climactic trance. Firm fingers pinched their pertness, sending a shiver of pleasure low in my belly.

  He reached into his pocket and there was that rip of a packet, followed by him swiftly freeing himself from his pants. That threat of his erection, that sleight of hand as he rolled on the rubber. He released my ankles from their leather cuffs and brought my legs up and wrapped them around his waist. My wrists tugged hard behind me, still well secured in their straps. I was suspended against him.

  He thrust fiercely, entering me, mercilessly owning my sex, sending shockwaves of pleasure. Obsessively, I clenched him, letting him know he was mine just as much as I was his. I moaned as I drew closer to another orgasm.

  Sliding in and out, he slowed now to let me know he was master. My wetness allowed his sensuous glide.

  “You haven’t begun to see what my dark nature has in store for you,” he whispered.

  Thrusting again and again, he was pounding into me, possessing me, and my soul screamed for this to be so. Arching my back, my hair tumbled behind me as I writhed in this bliss. I stuttered for air while my trembling thighs gripped him and pulled him in.

  He pushed deep and deeper still and I feared the pleasure wouldn’t hold off the pain of his forcefulness, this fine line between agony and bliss raising me towards another climax. Our perspiration soaked bodies slapped together, making the only sound other than our primal cries. Our throaty moans mingled, willing each other on, competing to be heard.

  All consuming.

  “Mia,” he said hoarsely, “you will never leave this room.”

  Unraveling, I struggled agai
nst him, trying to process, having believed I could cope with whatever he had to throw at me, reveal to me. Do to me.

  This frantic pummeling, his ability to enter me, enter my mind, getting closer to that secret place, that dark chamber hidden away in my consciousness…

  Cameron was virile, with that blaze of authority. His pupils dilated to large black circles of primal want. A trickle of perspiration trailed down his forehead as he assumed frenzied control and he fucked me into oblivion.

  I was captured completely.

  Exalted, moving ever higher into the stratosphere.

  My mind fractured into a million pieces of nothingness as his words buried deep inside and I reached within to comprehend, screaming my orgasm. I’d reached an impossible summit where I was mesmerized by the scattering of thoughts, the disappearing of consciousness, gliding through nothingness.

  A euphoria unlike any other.

  Free…

  CHAPTER 20

  COLLAPSING AGAINST HIM, I fell into his arms.

  Surrendering.

  My wrists stung from their leather bindings, but they were now free. Weak and spent, my legs failed and buckled. He caught me and picked me up in his arms, swiftly carrying me over to the bed where he lay me down. He pulled the chenille over me.

  Pressing my face against his chest, eyes squeezed shut, I was grateful for these minutes that followed, this gentleness. The way he eased sweat soaked locks of hair away from my face. Fulfilled and ever so sleepy, my body thrummed with lingering pleasure, my flesh tingled.

  “What’s the first letter of the emotion that haunts you?” he whispered.

  My body tensed. “G.”

  “Guilt,” he murmured. “Not so uncommon.”

  I closed down again, shuddering away the feeling. “You didn’t mean it?” I lifted my head off the pillow. “That I’m not allowed to leave this room?”

  “Shush,” he soothed. “Sleep.”

  Cameron spooned behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my back tighter against his front. His hand ran up and down my right arm.

  Never had I felt such freedom, which Cameron had given me, and my heart ached for him though he was right here. There was no way he was not letting me leave. That was unethical and illegal too.