Enthrall Her

by Vanessa Fewings

  “You could have refused.”

  “I was scared I’d lose you.”

  He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I had to make a choice. Do what was right for you. You needed to work on what was causing you pain. We knew it was subconscious. That only a doctor with Cole’s skills—”

  “Did you know how he was going to get me to break?” I said, turning in my seat to look at him. “In a dungeon that I wasn’t allowed to leave?”

  “Each case is different.”

  “Can you imagine my fear?”

  “I knew he would never hurt you,” he said. “He didn’t, right?”

  “No.” He loved me.

  And I’d allowed myself to love him too.

  Richard pulled the jeep over to the curb and killed the engine. “Cameron helped you?” He searched my face for the answer.

  “I feel different,” I said. “Stronger. Clearer.”

  “He resolved your pain?”

  “Yes, is that how he helped you?”

  “No, it was different. What he did to me was…” He waved it off, refusing to share it. “Are you happier?”

  I braved to look at him. “I’ve never felt more fulfilled.”

  He seemed relieved. “You want to continue with this lifestyle?”

  “More than ever, Sir.”

  He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Good.”

  “Cameron saved my life,” I whispered it.

  Richard reached inside his left jacket pocket for his BlackBerry and glanced at the screen.

  “Is it Cameron?” I said. “What does he say?”

  “You’re in love with him?” murmured Richard, tucking the phone away.

  “I’m in love with you.” I reached for his hand, needing to feel his warmth, his affection, his approval. “I’ve learned how to please you.”

  “You’re still wearing his shirt?”

  I shifted uncomfortably.

  “Mia.” His tone was quiet, soothing. “The transition back to me must be swift. You’re obedience must be sure. Without any questioning.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You know you can talk to me?” he said. “You can tell me anything?”

  “Just take me home.”

  “Malibu?”

  “Bel Air,” I said. “Take me back to Chrysalis.”

  “Cameron won’t be at the party tonight,” said Richard. “It’s better this way.”

  “I know.”

  “You will be presented to me. Everyone will witness that you are mine. And mine alone. Let there be no mistake, Mia, I am your true master.”

  “I know.”

  “In lieu of an affirmation in the Harrington Suite, which I might add you are in no way ready for—”

  “But I am—”

  “Cameron was meant to prepare you to excel in this level of intimate experience, and I can see from the reticence in your eyes that he fell short.”

  “That’s not true—”

  “Please don’t interrupt me.” Richard turned the key and steered the Jeep away from the curb, sliding back into traffic. “I’ve planned an event tonight that will see you returned to me publically, and will leave no doubt that you are once again my submissive.”

  Trying to read his expression, I waited. When I could wait no more, I whispered, “What are you going to do with me?”

  “I’m going to auction you off, Mia,” he said. “To the highest bidder.”

  CHAPTER 41

  “THE ART OF Shibari,” said Scarlet, “represents the honor of a beloved captured prisoner.”

  She’d brought me down to one of the red walled dungeons and instructed me to hold my arms above my head and separate my legs slightly in order for her to bind me in thick rope. She spiraled geometric patterns around my body and over my half corset. My breasts were bare, my nipples decorated with bejeweled gold bands and sapphire beads, their positioning bringing an erotic tingling to those already sensitized buds. Scarlet had first worked me over with a whip.

  This was how I was to be presented to the members of Chrysalis.

  I forced myself not to think of him.

  Turning my attention back onto Scarlet, who weaved rope with precision, I begged my mind not to return to his Beverly Hills home. All those fond memories were now tainted by truth. Cameron’s last words cut deeper than any knife. Tears stung my eyes as I recalled his final speech.

  I’d merely been one of his cases.

  Staring ahead, I willed this heartache to lift. Seeing him from time to time was all I had to look forward to.

  I should hate him. But I couldn’t. Cameron had freed me from pain and I held on to that at least.

  The auction was imminent.

  Scarlet looked stunning, dressed in her leather dominatrix bodice and stockings, her black gloves off for now for ease of tightening the knots.

  “How does this one feel?” she asked softly, careful not to break the trance she’d lured me into.

  “Good, thank you, Mistress Scarlet.” I watched her nimble fingers as she crisscrossed rope between my breasts. Giving small gasps, I was soothed by the sensation.

  She knelt before me and continued tying with an expert hand. “Shibari comes from Hojo-Jutsu.” She looked up at me. “The martial art of restraining captives in Japan. These bindings were used by ancient samurai warriors to restrain their prisoners. This technique took a great deal of time and expertise and therefore proved that the samurai honored their captured prisoner.”

  “It feels dreamy,” I whispered.

  “I’m well trained in rope bondage,” she said. “I’ll soon have you rope drunk. Euphoric. During the auction, you’ll be lulled so beautifully that everyone will be drawn to you. And the bids will no doubt be high. The money’s going to Charity Wells in Africa, bringing safe drinking water to millions. It’s one of Chrysalis’s favorite charities.”

  It felt good to be part of something so wonderful. “And Richard bids the highest?” I said.

  “Of course,” she said. “Everyone here knows you’re to be won by him. They’ll honor his bid.”

  “And then I go home with him?”

  “First, he’ll take you to the master’s domain in the dungeon.” She tightened the rope around my left thigh. “Richard will wish to spend time with his prize.”

  “Mistress, why did Dominic have me sign that contract?” I said.

  “It’s a formality,” said Scarlet. “If someone bids higher, it would mean you honor their bid and agree to submit to them. You would go willingly with them. You’re just signing off on the auction. You know Dominic, always wants to get everything in writing.”

  “I suppose that’s his job,” I said. “Protecting the manor.”

  “Protecting the client too,” she said. “And as we’re transitioning you over to a new master, we need to ensure you consent to the transfer of power.”

  “Richard was always my master,” I said. “He just had Cameron train me.”

  Our eyes met and Scarlet seemed to know it was the lie I needed to believe.

  She tugged the rope between my thighs. “Get your mind on your new master.” She pulled the rope up. “It’s best you look forward.”

  I bit my lip. “I feel dizzy.”

  “The rope stimulates pressure points,” she said. “Your Ki energy. Your life force.” She caressed my thigh. “I feel it too, Mia. I’m sharing your flow, feeding off your rush.” She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

  My cheeks flushed as pleasure spiraled in my chest. “I like it.”

  “Perfection.” Scarlet stood before me, admiring her handiwork. “You are an exquisite piece of art.”

  “Thank you for being here,” I said.

  “You’ve reached the level of an honored submissive, Mia. By now, you know how special you are. That we, the dominants, take pleasure in keeping you in subspace, freeing your spirit, and in doing so we free ours.”

  “It’s dreamlike,” I murmured.

  She gave the rope on my lower abdo
men another tug and it rubbed against my sex. “This is one of your seven chakras,” she said, gesturing between my thighs. “Feel the vital energy building and allow it to move upward through your center and into your highest chakra on the top of your head. Think of it as a fountain spurting light.” She leaned into my ear. “S & M is about raising consciousness.”

  “I feel it,” I whispered, closing my eyes and surrendering to her rhythmic tugs, the sensation of rope vibrating.

  “Is that nice?” she said softly, tugging some more.

  “Yes, Mistress.” I leaned into the pleasure.

  The scent of jasmine and roses filled my nostrils; the scent of Scarlet.

  “Cameron has transformed you into a masterpiece,” she whispered.

  Subspace, I slipped into it, freefalling, letting go, wishing I could stay in this place forever. I melted into the rope as though it had always been part of me.

  The softest words stirred me from this trance. “You’re ready.” Scarlet clasped my hand and led me towards the door.

  A jolt of excitement raced through me. I was about to take my rightful place here in Chrysalis.

  The house was full of guests.

  They’d stepped out of those photos in the Harrington Suite, or so it seemed. The men were all dressed in flawless black tuxes and the women wore an array of evening gowns, or merely elegant yet skimpy underwear. All of them were masked, all of them elegant, their conversations animated with the vibrancy of friends meeting again, distance worn easily away by a warm greeting.

  Subs were not permitted to wear masks tonight, so there’d be no hiding.

  The auction was going to launch Chrysalis’s Ball.

  Scarlet guided me through the crowd and into a larger room, where the auction stage was draped in black velvet.

  Dominic was the master of ceremony. Beside him stood a young, pretty brunette who had just been won in a bid. Shouts from the crowd cheered her on as she was handed over to her new master.

  And led away.

  The lights were dim, the music soft and Gaelic sounding. As we moved forwards towards the stage, the crowd stepped aside for us. I stared straight ahead, my feet taking cautious steps up onto the platform, fearing I’d trip and embarrass Scarlet, or even Richard.

  “Mia, you look beautiful,” said Dominic, greeting us on the stage. “You’ve come so far from that wide-eyed girl who stepped foot in here two weeks ago.”

  With a nod, I let him know I appreciated his attempt to calm me.

  Turning to face the crowd, I gazed at a sea of masks.

  I looked for him in the crowd.

  A hundred or so eyes stared back. An array of color, extravagant designs, all their emotions frozen by those blank masks. Hushed whispers. New audience members poured in.

  Adrenaline surged through my veins as I took it all in. Those high crafted balconies on either side hosted even more people.

  All of them focused on me.

  Scarlet stood by my side, her left arm against mine providing strength that I drew from.

  Feeling weightless, lightheaded, I found all of this surreal…

  Now rope drunk, I understood that my half nakedness didn’t mean vulnerable, and this was what Cameron had tried to teach me. My body was a temple, and here, now, I represented the sacred feminine. That which provided nourishment, forgiveness, beauty, and empowerment.

  Standing tall and proud, confident with my sexuality, I no longer felt shame. Instead I understood the profoundness of elevating consciousness to shed the illusion of selfhood.

  Emerging from this chrysalis, I was reborn.

  The bidding began.

  At the front of the stage, I recognized those ocean blue eyes, and despite the mask I knew it was Richard. Shay stood beside him, both of them wearing Mardi Gras masks. Richard threw me a wave.

  Dominic was acknowledging each bid, guiding the audience through the process with a confident and methodical air.

  The bid hit six thousand dollars.

  Dominic swapped a wary glance with Scarlet.

  She gestured to Shay, asking him to near the stage and she bent to whisper in his ear. “Call Cameron. Tell him.”

  I stared up at Dominic. “What’s going on?” But I knew.

  He stepped out of the crowd, and I knew those dark eyes, that salt and pepper hair, that regal stance of a man who belonged in the lion’s den. The man who’d threatened to take me to Pendulum. Lance raised his hand and called out, “Ten thousand.”

  Richard threw him an annoyed glare and squeezed his way through the crowd towards him.

  Lance and Richard kept their voices low and those around them seemed as equally fascinated as me. I didn’t need to hear to know they were arguing.

  “Twenty five thousand dollars,” Lance called out.

  Richard threw me a look of concern. “Twenty seven thousand,” he shouted.

  “One million dollars,” shouted Lance, and he looked triumphant.

  “Any other bids?” asked Dominic.

  An argument ensued, voices carrying over the din, but I couldn’t catch their meaning.

  “Sold,” said Dominic, glaring at Richard.

  I froze.

  An already agitated crowd became a bustling array of men and women. Scarlet argued with Dominic. Shay argued with Lance.

  Richard looked stunned.

  “Doesn’t Lance know?” I called out to Scarlet.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said, and turned towards the two suits joining us on the stage. “Please, wait.” She frantically gestured to them.

  The men looked like bouncers and behaved like them too. They grabbed hold of me and pulled me from the stage.

  They led me out of there and through the foyer, towards the elevator. Despite trying to wriggle out of their grip, they moved with purpose. Their ironclad hold was unrelenting.

  Lance strolled into the elevator behind us and quickly dismissed the suits. The door slid closed.

  Richard placed his foot in the way, preventing the door from closing. “Lance, there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Lance’s grip tightened around my arm. “My bid was higher.”

  “No one’s ever bid that high on a sub,” said Richard.

  “She’s no ordinary sub,” said Lance. “Look, I just donated a million to your charity. I’m the hero here.”

  “Mia’s my girlfriend,” snapped Richard. “There’s been a mistake. This is a mistake.”

  “She still belongs to Cameron,” said Lance. “I saw no transfer ceremony.”

  “Cameron gave her back to me this morning. We decided against a public display—”

  “So it’s okay for you to change the rules,” said Lance, “but when it comes to other members we must abide by them.”

  Richard gave a thin smile. “Lance, she’s a live wire. There’s no telling what she’ll do.”

  “I can handle her.”

  “Come on, man,” said Richard. “This is fucked up.”

  “Just how I like it,” said Lance.

  “Mia, get out of there,” snapped Richard.

  I went to move, but Lance was too strong. With his other hand, he removed a keycard and slid it into the wall panel. Richard went to speak, but those two men who’d lugged me out of the auction room grabbed hold of him and pulled him back.

  Richard lost it.

  The door slid closed.

  We descended.

  “I’ve heard you can be a handful,” said Lance.

  “You have to take me back up,” I said.

  “There are rules. Stipulations. I won you fair and square.”

  “You knew Richard was meant to win me.”

  “The highest bidder wins. The rules got skewered along the way.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Firstly, your silence.”

  “You won’t silence me.”

  “You’re in limbo.” His eyes darkened. “Between masters. The perfect time for a new master to stake his
claim on you.”

  “What about my consent?”

  “Oh, you’ll consent. I will be able to do whatever I want to you and you’ll submit.”

  “Never.”

  The elevator stopped and the door slid open. I was manhandled out of there and along to the lowest level. The one I’d wondered about despite Dominic pretending it didn’t exist that time I’d ridden the elevator with him.

  I wished it didn’t exist. This long hallway with wooden paneled walls. The same with the door at the end. The far eastern carvings in the wood reflected medieval images of torture, and if this was meant to illicit fear it worked. Lance used the same keycard and opened it.

  “A connoisseur of the dark arts.” Cameron’s self proclaimed title.

  And now I understood why.

  Deep blood red walls. A medieval torture room, modernized perhaps, but there were low hanging chains with hooks on the end of each one. Those strange contraptions, along with the numerous threatening looking collection of equipment. Rusty shackles. An antique rack in the corner with a wooden rectangular frame, rollers at both ends. The kind you saw in old movies where the victim was persuaded to talk with a twist of a handle.

  A gallow.

  There was a fucking gallow. The kind where the person is hung for stealing food, or something equally benign.

  I refused to pass out and find myself trapped in any one of these. Gothic artwork was strewn on the walls, depicting men and women being subjected to severe pain from several devices that interestingly enough could also be found in here.

  What the fucking hell?

  No, I didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t understand how this room had been here all the time beneath all this beauty. Those days when I’d spent pleasurable hours with Cameron immersed in what was probably the lighter sight of BDSM.

  I went for the door, but Lance was too strong.

  He struck my face.

  Stunned, I offered no resistance when he dragged me to the center of the room and secured me to the spiked Saint Andrew’s Cross. Tiny metal points dug into me, creating slivers of stinging pain across my back and buttocks.

  The room came back into view.

  His face.

  My tears poured, unceasing.

  Lance was going to rape me.

  He stepped before me, his arms folded. “Submit.”