Thor'sday Night - Paranormal Erotica (23 page)

‘No…’ She edges towards the bathroom.

‘Trust me, baby.’The whip merges with his black
slacks as he lets it fall to his side. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

‘But—’

‘Once you’ve tasted real pain, once you know
what real punishment feels like, Carmen, you’ll understand yourself
better. You’ll understand that you’ve been begging for this without
even realizing it.’

The fact that what he says makes no objective
sense, and yet perfect sense to her, imbues her anxiety with
arousing dimensions.

‘Would you care to tell me,’ he holds himself
utterly still, ‘what you and your boss were doing in his office
just before I walked in?’

She can’t answer that question, so she lets go
of the towel.

The damp cloth slides slowly down her body to
the carpet.

‘You told me you hadn’t slept with him.’ The
whip stirs at his feet like a demonic pet. ‘Was that another
lie?’

‘He kissed me.’ She desperately offers him a
fragment of the truth.

‘And?’

‘And he put…’ she keeps her eyes on the whip
knowing she has to give him more, ‘he put his hand inside me.’

He repeats quietly, ‘His hand?’

She doesn’t answer, simply stares at his fingers
wrapped around the base of the whip.

He sounds stunned. ‘The man you work for
fist-fucked you?’ He also sounds oddly impressed.

Confessing this to another man helps her vividly
relive those powerful moments, which turns her on, and gives her
the courage to look up at him. His cold gray stare feels like
running into her own tombstone, yet for some haunting reason, her
self-esteem doesn’t feel buried beneath it.

‘Did you enjoy being fist-fucked, Carmen?’ he
asks tightly.

There is no point in denying it, her body will
only give her away eventually, so better to be totally open with
him now. ‘Yes, I did, sir.’

‘Walk over to that wall, turn around, and put
your arms over your head.’

She obeys him at once.

‘And don’t turn around,’ he adds, ‘you’ll be
very sorry if you do.’

He was right. Her first impulse is to face him
and beg him to stop. It takes all her willpower to keep her palms
and forehead resting calmly against the wall as the whip slices
into her back. She manages not to scream, until the fourth
lash.

‘Do I have to gag you, Carmen?’

‘No, sir!’

He immediately tests her resolve with a fifth
vicious stroke.

‘Oh, God,’ she gasps, ‘oh, God!’

He swiftly subjects her to three more swift,
penetrating blows.

Her eyes closing she sinks to her knees, and
barely hears him when he says, ‘That’s enough for now.’ Then she
feels his hands on her shoulders. ‘Did you enjoy that?’ he
whispers.

She can’t answer. Her mind tells her she
definitely did not enjoy that, but her body isn’t sure about
anything anymore.

‘It’s like learning to drink, baby, you have to
take it a few sips at a time. If you try and handle too much at
once, you’ll pass out, and where’s the fun in that? Come on.’ He
helps her up. ‘On the bed.’ She stumbles as he shoves her towards
it. ‘Lie on your back, spreadeagled.’

She discovers what the ‘portholes’ are for as he
quickly ties her wrists and ankles to the bed frame with a rough
white rope. When he is finished, the only part of her she can move
is her head, which she raises off the pillow to keep her eyes on
him. She is completely vulnerable now, he can do anything he wants
to her, and today this frightens her. When he tied her up those
other times, she hadn’t just confessed to letting another man
fist-fuck her. She is afraid he won’t be concerned with her
feelings now, that he won’t worry about taking things slowly and
paying attention to her limits because he is angry with her, and
wants to hurt her. As he looks through another drawer she suffers a
climax of anxiety. ‘Jay?’

He moves around to the foot of the bed. ‘What
did you call me?’ He begins slipping on some skintight black rubber
gloves.

‘What are you going to do, sir?’

‘I’ll do whatever I please with you, whenever I
please.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You really don’t get it yet, do you, Carmen?
Things will be a lot clearer to you soon.’

She lets her heavy head fall back onto the bed.
He looks so good dressed all in black, and the addition of black
latex gloves to the ensemble has a devastating effect on her
emotionally… It won’t be his warm, mortal fingers touching her
body, it will be like having Darkness itself caress her as
mysteriously embodied in him, and his aura of power…

‘I’d like to know what you’re thinking,
Carmen.’

She stares up at the blank, roughly textured
white ceiling. ‘I was thinking about how much those gloves turn me
on, and wondering why.’ She lifts her head to look at him
again.

He pulls his shirt out of his slacks, and starts
unbuttoning it. ‘What did you conclude?’ He sounds interested.

Her head falls back on the pillow. ‘That when
you touch me with them, it will be like the cold darkness of space
touching me. Your fingers will be its inexorable laws, and my skin…
my skin will be like the light emerging from it…’

‘Fascinating. It’s going to be a real pleasure
torturing a beautiful and intelligent woman for a change.’

The ceiling is no longer blank: she sees the
word TORTURE written across it in big, black, inescapable letters.
Yet she doesn’t dare ask him what he means by it. The bed sinks to
one side as he joins her on it – a pocket of energy suddenly
forming in the comforter’s black space that both excites her and
frightens her as she lets her head turn to face him.

He is wearing only black slacks now with the
black gloves, and they enhance his skin’s nearly luminous
perfection, making his gray irises shine like moons that
irresistibly draw her feelings into the gravity of his stare.

‘I’ve opened Pandora’s Box,’ he says, brushing
her bangs off her forehead as if he wants every inch of her skin
exposed to him, ‘haven’t I?’

‘What do you mean, sir?’

He gathers her breasts up in both hands. ‘I mean
you were a good girl,’ he flicks his tongue into her creamy
cleavage like a hungry cat, ‘until I came along.’ He holds her
eyes. ‘When you went out with a man, you were faithful to him. You
never even thought of sleeping with more than one man at a time. Am
I right?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’ve freed the tiger, and it’s good that she’s
enjoying her true nature after being locked up for so long. But
what she has to understand is that she needs her Master’s
permission to feed.’ He pauses to suck on one of her nipples as he
massages her tender globes. ‘She can’t go hunting by herself.’ His
breath is deliciously warm against her saliva-soaked nipple. ‘It’s
not safe – not now that she knows what she likes.’ He lets go of
her. ‘She needs her Mate and Master there with her so he can
protect her. And, even more important,’ he makes a fist with his
left hand, ‘is how angry he gets when she dares to feed without
him.’

‘Oh, God,’ she whispers. Mike fisted her in the
heat of passion, but this feels completely different. She can see
it coming, she has time to think about it, which is a mistake.
‘Jay…’

He places a cool, heavy hand over her mouth, so
she can’t raise her head to watch as his coal-black fist parts her
labia, and starts burrowing slowly into her cunt.

The excruciating penetration stretches the
envelope of sensation to the point where she feels as though his
fist is closing around her mind and squeezing every thought out
between his fingers, leaving only the helpless awareness of what he
is doing to her. At least with Mike she retained a semblance of
control, she wasn’t bound hand and foot.

She could have defended herself if she had
really wanted to, kicked him and scratched him. But all she can do
now is close her eyes and lay utterly still hoping to survive as
his cold gloved fist stretches her pussy open around it, unyielding
as a rock shaping warm, moist clay. His knuckles make deep
impressions in her innermost flesh, that resonate like violent
musical notes through her blood in a dark symphony of sensations
deafening her to everything else as her heart beats faster and
harder trying to keep up. She is only vaguely aware of her wrists
and ankles straining at their bonds, and of her cries uselessly
hitting the wall of his other hand pressed hard against her
mouth.

‘If you can’t take anymore,’ his clear, even
tone penetrates the tumultuous storm of her senses orbiting his
fist, ‘just say violet.’

She opens her eyes in wonder that he guessed her
favorite color, and the added penetration of his stare arouses her
so much she can hardly stand it. Especially when his arm begins
twisting slowly back and forth, caressing her everywhere at once.
She is sure she is going to die then, not because her body can’t
take the forced labor, but because the pleasure is so intense she
can’t possibly survive it. The only thing left in the universe is
his all-consuming presence inside her, and her body’s deepest
recesses molding themselves to his fist and arm like another,
living, glove. The experience seems to bend space around it as it
goes on forever… Yet she feels just as bereft as she does relieved
when he abruptly withdraws his fist, and it ends.

He uncovers her mouth. ‘You’re amazing,’ he
says.

Becoming aware of the room again, she takes a
deep, shuddering breath.

He gets up, pulls something out of one of his
drawers, and bends over her.

A soft cloth falls over her eyes.

She moans in protest, hating to lose sight of
him.

‘What’s the matter, Carmen, don’t you like being
blindfolded?’

‘No, sir.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Because I can’t see you, sir.’

‘And what makes you think you deserve to see
me?’

She bites her lip. She has been unfaithful to
him, over and over again. She truly deserves whatever punishment he
decides to give her.

‘You don’t deserve to look at me, do you,
Carmen?’

She answers faintly, ‘No, sir.’

‘That’s right, you don’t. You don’t even deserve
to speak to me.’ He shoves some sort of ball between her lips that
fills her mouth and straps on over her head.

All she can see is darkness, all she can taste
is plastic, and her sense of smell has never been very strong, so
the only senses left to her are hearing and touch. The latter
verifies that she is totally helpless as she tests the ropes around
her wrists again.

‘I suggest you lie still, Carmen. I’ll see you
in a few hours.’

Tears wet the edges of her blindfold as she
moans and whimpers and heaves frustrated sobs begging him not to
leave her like this.

She has no idea how long it takes her to run the
full gamut of her emotions. Lying bound and helpless, she seems to
cover their entire invisible spectrum. First she hates him, and
determines never to see him again. Then she begins to respect him
for the way he is treating her, which shifts the anger onto
herself, because she really can’t believe the way she has behaved
lately. Then she starts feeling blessed by the fact that he is only
leaving her for a little while, not forever. And suddenly, her
emotional turmoil climaxes into a feeling of gratitude that he is
punishing her like this, because it means he really cares about
her. The more her discomfort intensifies, the more she is sure he
cares for her, which reassures her and excites her, so that by the
time she hears the door open again, the comforter beneath her pussy
is soaked with how much she wants him.

‘Are things a little clearer to you now,
Carmen?’

She moans hoarsely, her mouth and throat dry
from sucking on lifeless plastic for so long.

‘You understand what you are now, don’t you?’ He
removes the ball gag so she can answer him.

‘Yes, sir,’ she gasps. ‘I’m your slave!’

‘And who am I?’ He slips the blindfold off next
so she can have the honor of seeing him.

‘You’re my Master.’ She blinks wildly against
the sudden onrush of light. ‘I’ll do anything you say, Master,
anything!’

‘Very good.’ Without warning, he slips the blade
of a knife beneath the ropes around her wrists and ankles and
slices through them. ‘Turn over onto your stomach,’ he
commands.

Her eyes close as her cheek falls gratefully
against the soft black comforter. A moment later the mattress sinks
on both sides of her as he straddles her thighs. She feels him loom
over her as he pulls the cheeks of her bottom open, and lets out an
anxious whimper. Then her eyes squeeze shut and her lips part as he
pushes his erection into her ass. His slow penetration hurts, yet
the thought of what she is letting him do turns her on so much that
her body responds to these mysteriously encouraging synapses from
her brain and experiences a breathtaking sense of fulfillment. He
fucks her slowly and excruciatingly, enjoying her ring’s tight
caress along the full length of his dick as she wonders, with an
amazement that becomes hopelessly confused with a devastating
pleasure, why a man remorselessly defying her natural dimensions
just to suit himself feels so damn good.

*

Carmen is feeling so wonderfully relaxed that
Bayside’s avenue of shopping carts possesses all the colorful
beauty of an ancient bazaar located at the heart of exotic trade
routes. Normally, she can’t stomach the place, but the earth’s axis
seems to have shifted a mysterious degree so that objects catch the
light differently and everything looks fascinating.

‘Oh, Jay, look!’ Her hand in his, she pulls him
over to a cart that resembles a witch’s cave in a fairytale. The
delicate skeletons of autumn leaves and acorns, butterflies,
starfish, and innumerable other living things, have been captured
in their prime then dipped in molten gold. They hang from black
wooden posts on gilded chains, painfully dead, yet beautifully
immortal.