Even Deeper (3 page)

Twelve hours couldn’t have gone by slower. Alex spent the entire trip teasing me in the most decadently depraved ways. Letting me loose from the bindings only long enough to use the bathroom or—finally—to eat. He never once let me climax, and by the time we landed, I was in a state of total disorientation. Tired, because I’m not one of those people who can sleep on a plane. Still feeling confused by Jack’s absence. And filled with that yearning for satisfaction. I did my best to behave, standing in line with my passport, quiet at Alex’s side as he gathered our luggage.

“Here,” he said, when we’d gotten through customs. “Go to the ladies’ room.”

He handed over a small striped bag, like a cosmetics kit, and I looked from him to the offering in his hand, waiting for further instructions. What could possibly be in a bag this size? Not a dress. Or any sort of outfit aside from a bikini. Was he offering over an extra pair of panties? Alex had never returned mine.

“And don’t you dare come.” His eyes blazed as if he could see inside of me. I hesitated for one more moment before he said, “Go, Sam. Now.”

I took the bag in hand and found the nearest ladies’ room, entering a stall before unzipping the pouch. Inside, there was small bottle of lube—travel-size!—and a plug. I think I started to fear Alex a bit more right then. How far was he going to take his role of master? How much did he expect from me in the way of submission?

I turned the plug around in my hand, another thought blooming in my head.

Was this Alex’s great idea? Or was this a “gift” from Jack?

That’s when I saw the note tucked into the outer slit of the bag. I rearranged my new package, slipping the cosmetic bag and plug into my purse so I could read the note, holding the paper in trembling hands. I opened the folded piece of paper and saw the words: “Do this for me.” I felt as if Jack were there in the bathroom watching. “Do this for me, Sam. I wish I could be with you. I wish I could be bending you over and slipping this toy inside of you, myself. Instead, do this for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Alex had nothing to do with the gift. Or little, aside from being the courier. Jack was in charge. Even thousands of miles away, he was exerting his control. Where was he at this moment? Sleeping? Working? Thinking of me in a foreign ladies’ room, my panties still confiscated in Alex’s pocket, my pussy so wet I could have made myself come with only a few quick strokes. But somehow that would have been disloyal to Jack. I didn’t care what Alex thought, what Alex might do to me, aside for the fact that he would report my indiscretion to Jack.

Holding the toy let me know that Jack had been planning this. Had he known from the start that he wouldn’t be traveling with me? Fresh questions made my mind reel—but I knew that if I took too long in the restroom, Alex would undoubtedly think that I had disobeyed him and made myself come.

Quickly, I wet the toy with the lube, then slid the thing place, wishing badly for a pair of knickers to pull on over it. Walking gingerly, I returned to the crowds, searching for Alex. He was waiting in plain sight, and he came over and pulled me against a wall, sliding one hand down the back of my skirt, to check.

“Good girl,” he said softly. “Good girl.”

###

I’d been to Paris before, so I wasn’t another awestruck tourist, turning my head to take in every bit of the new scene. But I’m not jaded when it comes to the foreign travel. There is no way to arrive in Paris and not be moved by the magic of the city. In spite of my discomfort—or perhaps because of it—every sensation felt heightened. As if I were actually moving through one of those watery dreams. Not a nightmare—in spite of Jack’s absence—but a waking fantasy. 

We arrived at the upscale hotel, and Alex handled everything. He led me through the lovely lush lobby. He told me to sit, with that evil grin on his face, while he checked us in. I didn’t think to stand next to him, to listen to the name we were registered under. Had Jack booked two rooms—one for Alex and one for us? Adjoining rooms? I didn’t know.

I perched on the edge of one of the deep leather seats and waited, recalling how Alex had spoken to me on the plane. He didn’t like me when I behaved, but I didn’t feel the strength to fight anymore.

So I waited, sitting quietly with my legs pressed tightly together, and I wondered what was going to happen next.

“This way,” Alex said, once we’d checked in, beckoning me to follow him.

He took me to a room with a tiny balcony overlooking the street. I have absolutely no metal in my head, am one of those people who gets lost when spun around three times. Still, I had a fairly good idea of where we were. I’ve explored Paris thoroughly by foot. I knew the shops around the hotel, knew where the Seine was, knew how to find my favorite café. I started to feel that familiar excitement building. I was here. In Paris. So what if I happened to be with Alex right now? Jack was with me in a way. He was sending notes and toys and instructions and…

“Unpack,” Alex said, “we’re going out.”

I did as he instructed, not even questioning him about the toy still inside of me. I hoped he’d let me take it out. Hoped he’d let me shower, slip into new clothes, or at least a set of panties. But I knew from experience with Alex not to even ask. I put away my clothes while he washed up, and then I waited.

“Your turn,” he said, to my total relief. “Get cleaned up, and we’ll go.”

“The toy…” I hesitated, unsure of how he’d respond. Had Jack even told him what was in the bag?

“Oh, right,” Alex said, as if he’d forgotten all about why I was walking funny. “Come here.” Before I could think, he had me bent over the edge of the bed and was unceremoniously removing the plug and tossing the toy into a wastebasket. No embarrassment at all on his part. Sometimes Alex treated me more like a thing than a person.

I wanted to cry when I took the shower. My emotions turned on me so that I felt unsure of how I’d behave when I went back into the room. But Alex wasn’t menacing. He sat on the sofa, waiting. Smoking. A smile for me while he watched me get dressed.

“You’re doing fine,” he said, confusing me even more. “I would have thought you would have fought more, but you’re doing well.” Again my thoughts went wild. Did he want me to fight him? Did Jack? Christ, would I ever feel at ease in my world? Or was that the whole fucking point?

###

Alex took me to an exclusive lingerie and sex toy store that was tucked down a side street near the hotel. A store that he—or Jack—had clearly scoped out ahead of time. If you didn’t know the place was there, you wouldn’t be able to find it. Curtains shielded the front windows from curious passersby, and there was a bell to press to be allowed in.

But once inside, you found paradise. Kinky, expensive paradise.

Here, Alex bought me a variety of outfits, and I was impressed with the way he seemed to know exactly the items I would have chosen for myself.

The female clerk watched us carefully. The girl was about my age, but elegant in a way that I admired. Her hair was chestnut-hued and worn in a sleek ponytail. Her makeup was tastefully subtle to set off deep merlot-colored lips.

Alex didn’t ask for any assistance. He slid one item after another into a pile before motioning that he was ready.

As the clerk rang up the items, Alex added one last treat, a weapon that made the clerk’s eyebrows arch and made me suck in my breath.

###

Alex obviously enjoyed the stroll through the lobby. I could tell. He held me around the waist, as if we were a courting couple, and he made sure that the crop was more than visible in the bag he carried in his free hand. We’d eaten after shopping, and then leisurely walked around the city, because that’s what I most love to do in Paris. Now, Alex was hurrying me, and I didn’t know why. Couldn’t guess, until we entered the room.

“Call him.”

I looked at Alex as he set the bag down on the bed and then opened the hotel door once more. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You call him.”

It took me a moment to figure out the time in L.A., to decide which number to dial. Then there was Jack’s voice, warm and reassuring, asking me about the flight, about the room, about the clothes.

“I knew you’d like that store,” he said, making me wonder when he’d last been to Paris. Jealousy flickered through me as I visualized how many women he’d bought gifts for at the lingerie shop where Alex had taken me. Or how many girlfriends he’d shopped with himself.

“When will you get here?” I asked, rather than voicing the questions in my head.

“Tomorrow night.”

I sighed with relief. I only had one more solo day with Alex. I could handle that.

“Tell me what you bought.”

I listed the items, spreading them out on the bed as I spoke. I could almost hear Jack smiling as he said, “Anything else?” So he knew. He already knew.

“A crop.”

“Is Alex in the room?”

“No, Jack.”

“I want you to get dressed in one of the new outfits, and I want you to be ready when he comes back in.”

“Ready…” I echoed, nervous. “Ready how?”

“You were his toy today, weren’t you? He took care of you. He played you. Tonight, he’s yours.”

“Come on, Jack…” How did he expect me to… Why did he want me to…

“The crop was a gift for me,” Jack said, sounding suddenly cold. “I will enjoy using it tomorrow night. But this evening, you’re in charge.”

I laughed, so fucking nervous, unable to think straight. I was tired from traveling, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse. Jack was asking for a lot.

“Go get dressed, like a good girl, and when he comes back to the room, I want you standing tall and strong.” Had he known I’d slumped down on the bed, fear mingling with insecurity? “I like the thought, Kid. That image is what’s going to get me through the night without you. Don’t think this is easy for me, either.”

I looked down at the items on the bed. I needed Alex’s help to get into most of the corsets, but there was an outfit he’d slipped into the pile when I wasn’t looking. A vinyl zip-up bustier with matching skirt. Had Jack told him what to buy? Did Alex know what was coming?

I felt as if I’d been wet for days, turned on for so long that I’d forgotten the pleasure of reaching the end.

“Touch it,” Jack said, as if he were right next to me. “Pick it up.”

I reached for the weapon. The crop felt heavy in my grip. Could I do this?

“If I were there…” Jack started, and I pressed the phone hard between my shoulder and ear. “If I were there, would you be having a problem?”

No. Shit no. He’d tell me what to do, and I’d do it. The distance had given me pause. That was all. I would have done anything to please Jack. All I had to do was look in his eyes, see the set of his jaw, feel his hand on my skin—and he owned me. So why couldn’t I be a top when he wasn’t in the room? I’d whipped Alex before, and I’d seen Jack punish him, as well…and, yeah, I’d found both scenarios sexy. I live to submit, but I can appreciate the thrill of being in charge.

Slowly, I felt the power start to build.

“Go get ready,” Jack said. “Go get ready, Samantha. But I want you to remember this—tomorrow night it’s going to be you.”

###

“Tomorrow night it’s going to be you.”

Those words echoed in my head as I began to get dressed. I put on the vinyl bustier, the short vinyl skirt. I found a pair of black fishnet stockings in one of the drawers, and then looked at the bottom of the closet at my row of shoes. I’d brought all-black shoes with me: my favorite patent leather penny loafers, stacked high-heels, and knee-high boots with silver buckles. These were the ones I slid on before admiring myself in the mirror.

The only thing missing?

The crop.

How did Alex know to stay away so long? How did Alex know to give me time to fix my makeup, redoing my scarlet lipstick, fixing the dark kohl rim around my eyes? How did he know to wait until I could feel the power filling me up, as if I’d become an empty vessel on the flight over. As if not Jack, but Paris itself was giving me the confidence to take charge?

He knew, of course, because Jack had told him. Because Jack had given him some sort of warning, or note, explaining that Alex would be reduced to a powerless sub come the midnight hours. You see, he was different when he returned to the room. He didn’t stride in all puffed up, giving me those wicked glances. He knocked. And not loudly, either. He knocked in a way
I
would have knocked. A soft rap. Hesitant. Waiting.

I didn’t call out to him. Instead, I opened the door myself, wanting him to see me in my finery. Clothes he’d had the know-how to choose. I wanted him to see the light on my shiny outfit, wanted his eyes to roam over me, down to the crop in my hand.

Alex hesitated, and I thought I saw him swallow hard. He waited for me to step aside, to let him into the room. In one hand, he had a small bag, and while I watched, he pulled out a bottle of liquor and set it on the bedside table. “Do you mind…” he started, and then changed mid-sentence to, “Would you like…?”

I nodded, and Alex lifted two glasses from the bathroom and filled them each with a few inches of the amber liquid. Courage in a bottle for him? We drank in silence, the lights of the city coming through the windows into the luxurious room.