Slow Seduction (Struck by Lightning)

by Cecilia Tan

  Or a phallus.

  Deep red, it was the only part of the wave’s underside that was rounded and liquid-shaped rather than spiky and harsh. It had a pattern on it. I looked more closely and saw it wasn’t a pattern but words etched into the glass. The etchings were on an interior layer so when I ran my fingers over it, I felt only smoothness.

  PAIN OF DESIRE OF PAIN OF DESIRE OF PAIN…

  The words repeated around and around the protrusion. I ran my fingers up and down it lightly; my heart caught in my throat.

  Oh, James.

  If I had wondered if the photographs of the glass slippers meant he was thinking of me, now I was completely sure. But the angry red and the dangerous-looking spikes made me think he wasn’t thinking of me fondly.

  I turned the lights back off and slipped out the door, hurrying back up to the patio. Linae and Helen were standing very close together, punch cups still in their hands. I sneaked in behind them. “I’m back.”

  “Jaysus, give us some warning next time,” Linae said. “Well, did you find him?”

  “I don’t see him anywhere, but that’s definitely his workshop down the hill,” I said. “Let’s try to come back when there isn’t a party going on.”

  “Oh, Karina, you’re no fun!” Linae said.

  Helen saw the sense in us making a quick getaway before we were found out. “If you think Peter’s going to be angry about us going out, what if he gets wind of this? We better get out of here, Linae.”

  “Oh, all right. That door guard is going to know something’s up if we just waltz right back out again, though.” She turned to me. “Can you sick up on command?”

  “You mean vomit?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “All right, I’ll have to do it.” Linae sighed and set down her punch cup on a cocktail table. “You two act like you’re helping me because I can’t walk straight.”

  She was much taller than either Helen or me, which made for a comical stagger down the walkway toward the butler.

  “Everything all right, ladies?” he asked, one of his eyebrows arched in concern.

  “Oh, I think I’m going to be—!” Linae threw her head into the bushes and made puking noises. When she pulled free, she had twigs and leaves in her hair. “I think I better go home.”

  “Um, we’ll take her home,” Helen said and steered her toward the car again.

  When we got to the car, Helen took the keys and got into the driver’s seat. Linae lay down in the back and I took the passenger seat. Helen waved to the butler as we drove past him and then turned us onto the lane toward the highway.

  Once we reached it, Linae sat up, cackling. “Was that brilliant? Tell me I’m a brilliant actress!”

  “You’re a nutter, you are!” Helen said. “I can’t believe you! And you!” She glanced at me a moment before turning her attention to the road again. “Taking us into some kind of secret sadomasochistic soiree! We need the story on this, sister. This isn’t merely some artist who owes you a piece, is it?”

  I sagged against the seat of the car. “No.”

  “He’s your ex-lover!” Linae guessed.

  “I hope not,” I said. “I hope we’re still…I mean, he dumped me, but I think it’s all a mistake. I think if we could sit down and talk, he’d stop overreacting about everything! He’s afraid. I get that, but come on, tons of guys are afraid of commitment!”

  “That’s true,” Helen said. “But flying across the Atlantic is more than your usual bloke will do to avoid a talking-to, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not stalking him, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said. “If anything…he’s as obsessed with me as I am with him.” I told them about the sketches and the painting. “You girls have to help me. I want to talk to him. That’s all. There’s got to be a way to get us in a room together. You have to understand, the way he dumped me. There’s been no chance to talk it over. He just disappeared.”

  “And came all the way to England, aye? All right,” Helen said. “Say we kidnap him or trap you in a room together or what have you. What happens if he says no again?”

  “If he really, truly, rationally says no, he doesn’t want me, doesn’t love me, then I’ll cry a lot but I’ll believe it’s over. I’ll stop chasing him.”

  “And then we’ll go out for a right night of drinking for sure,” Linae said. “We’ll try at the house again tomorrow, a’right? I’ll go myself, say I’m bringing him news about that new art market day we’re starting. If he’s there, we’ll come back the three of us and block the exits while you talk to him.”

  “Yes!” Helen shouted. “I’ve got a Viking sword I can carry and everything. He won’t be getting past this Valkyrie.”

  “Viking sword?” I asked.

  “Have you not seen all the Viking stuff in town? Not yet? They pay folks to dress up as Vikings and answer questions from the tourists. Quite fun.” That got her off on a tangent talking about the history of the Vikings in York and burial sites and various bloody battles that had been fought. My mind drifted a little as she spoke.

  James, I thought. I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe.

  But when I reached my room and was settling down to check my e-mail, a text came from Damon.

  Jules is here, it read. In London. Club party Saturday night. Get on the next train you can.

  Eight

  Strange Doors That We

  Never Close Again

  I told Helen and Linae the news. The earliest train I could get was early afternoon, so I wandered the streets of York for a few hours before it came. The narrow, cobblestoned streets full of charming little shops still seemed more like something from a fantasy book than a real place to me, but I couldn’t really concentrate. All I could think about was James.

  Damon texted me throughout the day, winding me up even more. Especially when my train was late. I’ll pick you up at King’s Cross, he messaged. We’ll need to go directly to the club. I don’t suppose you have anything suitable to wear with you.

  While on the train I ended up texting him a complete list of everything I had with me, to which he replied: Perhaps you’ll have to go naked…

  And then a bit later: With no time to prepare you, V. has an ingenious idea for your debut.

  He said nothing about what the ingenious idea was, though, which I’m sure was intended to key me up. Knowing that didn’t keep me from getting keyed up, either.

  He teased me with a few other texts, too, like: The director makes his own floggers and flails. When he approved you he told me he was making one especially to use on you himself.

  In other words, I was a nervous wreck by the time I arrived in London. I tried to imagine how the reunion with James would go. Maybe they would put me to serving drinks, which was something I was certainly qualified to do. I would be carrying a tray with a glass of whiskey to a man seated in the parlor, talking politics. He would look up to accept the glass, see me and…?

  Or maybe I would be lined up with the other trainees. I remembered the pony players from the party in York and imagined us lined up like horses waiting for riders, each one tethered to a post, as club members would come by and look us over. And then along would come one tall, well-dressed man, whose eyes would light up in delight and relief when he saw me…

  The party was probably going to be nothing like that, but I couldn’t stop myself from hoping and dreaming.

  At King’s Cross, Damon was waiting on the other side of the turnstiles, as if taking no chances on us missing each other. He swept me into a kiss that bent me back before I even realized what he was doing.

  “What—?”

  “Sh. Making it look good for the constables,” he said into my ear, as he righted me and began walking quickly, one arm around my shoulders, toward the exit.

  “Are you kidding me? Damon—”

  “Ah ah, it’s Mr. George, remember?”

  Shit. “Yes, Mr. George.”

  “Tsk-tsk, and I’ll have to
punish you for that.”

  “Of course you will,” I said, somewhat sarcastically, “Mr. George.”

  He opened the back door of a limousine at the curb and then followed me in. I didn’t get a look at the driver, but the car began to move and then my attention was on other things.

  “I enjoy your wit and playfulness,” he said, “but some club members will find it too irreverent. Others will think it is an invitation to punish you. Is it, Karina? Are you doing it to provoke me?”

  “I’m not. You didn’t say I shouldn’t be sarcastic.”

  “I shouldn’t have to, if you have any instincts about how to act around authority. But as I said, there’s no time to train you more properly before tonight. Next week you can start lessons with Vanette. For tonight, maybe we’ll just gag you.” He drummed his fingers against the ledge of the window. “I assume you’re as eager to get this resolved as I am.”

  “If you are thinking about putting it off, with all due respect, no way.” I wasn’t going to miss this chance after coming so close.

  He nodded. “I figured you’d feel that way. I want it resolved quickly. Now get your trousers off. You have a punishment coming.”

  “Right now, Mr. George?”

  “Yes, right now, and expressing reluctance by asking bogus questions is another no-no.” He shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

  Meanwhile, I shimmied out of my jeans, thinking how familiar this was, stripping in the back of a moving limousine, and yet so totally different because I didn’t have the feelings for Damon I had for James.

  He gestured to his lap and I hesitated, not sure what he wanted. “At the risk of asking a bogus question, sir, I’m not sure how you want me or what that gesture means.”

  “Across my lap, your bare arse up, please,” he said with a wicked smile. “And now, you see, that was an appropriate question, respectfully asked.”

  I crawled across him so that my ass was in the air at the edge of his lap. His hand was warm and dry as he rubbed circles against my cheeks.

  “What’s the proper way to display reluctance?” I asked.

  “I’ll show you later. Asking questions in the middle of your punishment is also not correct, Karina.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. George.”

  “No, you’re not. But you will be when I’m done.”

  I nearly opened my mouth to ask if this was going to be like the caning and if I should keep the count, then thought, Duh, Karina. He said no questions right now. James never told me not to ask questions. In fact, he’d told me I should. I pressed my lips together, waiting to find out how this was going to go. If there was a pause after the first swat, I thought, then I could give the count of one like in a caning.

  There was no pause. He started to spank me with brisk slaps of his hand on my backside, several on one cheek before moving to the other. The rhythm was quick and steady, but where his hand was going to fall I couldn’t predict. As he moved around my ass and down my thighs, the slaps were getting heavier and harder the longer it went on. It wasn’t long before I was yelping, kicking my legs involuntarily on each heavy blow, as if I could launch myself off his lap to freedom. His other hand slid warm and solid against the back of my neck, holding me in place.

  And still the spanking continued. The driver was probably used to hearing all kinds of noises from the backseat, but I wondered what it sounded like to him anyway.

  When Damon stopped, we were both out of breath, and I coughed a few times, trying to catch mine.

  The next thing I knew, Damon’s hand was in my face. I looked at it, his palm as swollen and red as my buttocks felt.

  “Kiss it and say you’re sorry,” he said.

  Oh. I kissed his palm and it was scalding hot. He ran it through my hair, like he was petting a cat, and I remembered to say, “I’m sorry, Mr. George, for getting your name wrong.”

  “That’s better.” He hauled me off his lap and onto the leather seat, which felt cold against my scalding-hot ass cheeks. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”

  “Yes, Mr. George.” My voice was breathy, not in a sultry way, but more like I’d run up a flight of stairs. He smiled at me like he found it sexy, though. I slipped out of my shirt, wondering what he was going to make me wear.

  But now that I was completely naked, he ignored me, looking through the heavily tinted window with a brooding expression on his face.

  I looked out my own window, but couldn’t really make out where we were or what we were passing. The air-conditioning in the car was chilly, and the sweat I’d broken into during the spanking cooled down fast. I crossed my arms.

  Without looking at me, he said, “Don’t do that.”

  “Cross my arms? Sir?”

  “A sex slave should never make herself less available to her master,” he snapped. “She should always be making herself more available to him.”

  I slowly straightened my arms as I cleared my throat. “Forgive me if I’m incorrect, Mr. George, but I wasn’t under the impression that you were my master.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it, then looked at me. “Of course not. Not yet, anyway.” He moistened his lips with his tongue. “And you’re not a sex slave. You’re a club trainee. But if I have my way, Karina, you’ll not only be my sex slave, you’ll beg to be.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

  “Spread your legs. Show me,” he said.

  Remembering how James had liked me to do so, I brought my feet up onto the seat, then let my knees fall apart.

  Damon ran a finger lightly down the inside of my thigh, then upward between my folds, spreading my own natural wetness over my clit. He massaged it with two fingers, moving in a circle. “The fact that you can get this wet from a spanking, ngh.” He grunted. “It’s truly difficult not to fuck the living daylights out of you. But I shan’t. Not until you’ve given up on this loser.”

  He spanked me on the clit then, with much lighter slaps than on my ass; these made me yelp but also thrust my hips up into each swat.

  “Greedy girl,” he said as he pulled his hand back. “Could you come from that?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. George.” I was so aroused the entire area between my legs felt inflamed.

  “Perhaps later we’ll find out if you can. Your masochistic streak is very intriguing.” He looked out the window again. “All right. Time for a blindfold.”

  “But I already know where the club is…” I said, confused.

  “Who says this is to hide anything from you?” he said with a grin. “Maybe I merely like you helpless.”

  “Whatever you wish, Mr. George.”

  He grinned and slipped the tie from his neck, then wrapped it around my eyes.

  A short time later I felt the car come to a stop and heard him hop out before the driver could open his door. My door opened and I heard Damon’s voice. “Reach out for my hand and I’ll guide you.”

  I stood carefully. The floor felt like concrete and it sounded like we were indoors. Some kind of garage. They wouldn’t risk anyone seeing a naked woman walking up to the front door, I guessed.

  The air in the garage was cool against my bare skin, and Damon pulled me gently by my hand. “Forward, forward. Now step up.”

  I stepped up onto carpet. We were in a hallway now. He led me into a room and closed the door.

  I jumped at Vanette’s voice. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Don’t be such a spoilsport, Vanette,” Damon said as he lifted the tie off my eyes.

  I saw I was in what looked like a small bedroom. The early-evening sun filtered through diaphanous white curtains onto a twin bed. Several implements sat on the coverlet, leather, metal, and rubber.

  Damon looked them over. “She’s not voice trained at all,” he said. “Have we got a gag that matches this?”

  Vanette frowned. Today she was in a black cocktail dress with gray piping, her hair in a bun and her feet in strappy black and gray shoes. “If we’re ma
king her other orifices unavailable, don’t you think we might need to leave her mouth free for use?” She turned to me. “If you can’t abide by a gag order for one night, then we certainly can’t have you here.”

  “I can only try my best, Vanette.”

  To my surprise, she smiled at me. “Your best is what I want. All right then. Once you leave this room, you will not speak. If you are in distress or need help, the one word you may use is Mayday. That will bring a member of the staff straightaway.” She glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. “Your role tonight will be that of new girl. You won’t have to do anything specific like serving tea. Everyone will want to admire you and try you out. I regret I won’t be able to supervise you myself tonight as my attention is required on another matter. In fact, I must go.” To Damon she said, gesturing to the stuff on the bed, “I trust you can manage this?”

  “I am certain I can.”

  “Once it locks, only I can open it,” she reminded him. “So be sure you have it on right.”

  “I will.”

  They nodded to each other and Vanette left briskly.

  I looked at the items on the bed. “I take it this was the brilliant idea of hers you texted me about?”

  “Indeed. Have you ever worn a chastity belt before?”

  “No, Mr. George.”

  His smile was gleeful. “A first. I do love firsts. Bend over, darling, and rest your upper body on the bed.”

  I did as he asked, and the next thing I felt was his fingers spreading my wetness around even more. Up to my anus and all around my lips. Then I felt something more rigid pushing against me.

  “This is rubber,” he said. “It’s a two-pronged toy, with a small plug for your arse and a small dildo connected together. They’ll obviously prevent any unauthorized entry.”

  He teased me with them, though. Instead of putting them into place immediately, he fucked me with one prong first, then the other, before using both at once, making me whine and moan. I was still aroused from all we’d done in the car, and this was a deeply pleasurable sensation. Being penetrated in both places at the same time sent ripples of pleasure all through my abdomen.