Chapter 11
Ishouldn’t feel nervous opening this door, but I do. The feelings rise in my chest as we head down the hallway. They form a boulder in my throat as my hand touches down on the knob.
I go through the usual steps to overcome strong feelings.
Identify it, give it a name—it’s fear.
Acknowledge that I”m feeling it and why—I’m scared to show this woman this side of myself because I don’t know how she’s going to react. Usually when I’m bringing women to a place like this, it’s with an agreement in place about what’s going to happen. This time, it feels more like baring my soul. I have no idea if bringing her here will result in a scene or her running for the hills, but I have to do it.
Okay, all that’s left is to express the feeling in a healthy way and move on.
With a deep, relaxing sigh, I pause with the door open a crack and turn to her. “I’m nervous to bring you down here. And that’s not something I”m used to feeling.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “I’m excited.”
I smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope you feel the same way once we’re inside.”
“Are you about to show me the dungeon where you hide all the dead bodies?”
“Dungeon, yes. Dead bodies, no.”
Her eyes narrow again, this time to little slits and she cocks her head to the side. “Prisoners?”
I shake my head and laugh softly. “I want you to know right now that my bringing you here doesn’t mean that I expect anything from you.”
“Liar,” she correctly calls me out as she pushes past me and opens the door wide herself.
With a deep breath, I step in behind her and flip on the light.
“Holy shit, Ben. This is…”
I wait behind her with bated breath, unable to decide if she’s about to proclaim the room incredible, or incredibly terrifying.
I’m quite proud of it myself, if for no other reason than the sheer amount of work it took to put together. There’s no next-day delivery on an island like this. Each and every toy, bench, and bondage component came over as my own luggage at some point over the last nine years. It’s not a fully-stocked dungeon by any means, but I’ve managed to make myself a nice little play space down here in the windowless room I’d put on the building plans specifically for this purpose.
Not that I’ve gotten much use out of it.
I won’t say that I’m a hardcore practitioner of BDSM. I don’t have any interest in full-time D/s or M/s relationships. I simply enjoy the feeling of control in a controlled environment. Nothing calms me down quite as much as a silent, bowed submissive, awaiting my every order. Placing their trust in me to give them what they need.
Or, at least nothing used to calm me down as much. If the amount of sleep I’ve gotten in the last week is any indication, whatever spell this woman has me under might have greater medicinal effects.
With Victoria, it feels more like asserting control over a chaotic situation and forcing it into submission. I’ve watched plenty of scenes like that in my days attending clubs around the world, but it never occurred to me that it could have the same effect on me as my quiet, meditative, sexual dominance practices.
Bringing the two worlds together down here is my chance to find out.
I’m sure that once I get this woman into my own peaceful, controlled environment, my raging desire for her will mellow into my usual soft longing for everything to go as planned. I’m absolutely sure of it.
I don’t know what it would mean for it to go the other direction.
She turns to me, forehead crinkled. “Is this some kind of Fifty Shades of Grey thing?”
“I didn’t see the film.”
“It was a book.”
“Oh, okay, well, I didn’t read it. Is it about a rich bachelor who brings his gorgeous younger date down to his BDSM room?”
Her face illuminates as she smiles. “Yeah, it is.”
I nod, happy to have pleased her, if slightly confused as to what this means for us right now. “Well, I guess it is like that, then. What happens after he brings her down to his dungeon?”
She’s wandering further into the room, examining tables and tools and toys, but not touching anything. “He ties her up and stuff.”She whirls to face me, a mischievous look lighting up her features. “Is that what you’re gonna do to me?”
“Do you want me to tie you up?”” It takes my full strength to keep my voice level as I walk toward her.
“Sure.”
“And then what should I do? After I tie you up?” My hands finally find her body and I pull her close to mine, her back pressed against my chest, her ass squeezed in tight to my hardening cock.
“What…what are my options?” she breathes out, melting into me.
Oh, the things I would like to do to this woman.
But alas, we haven’t talked about it nearly enough for me to feel comfortable playing yet. At least, not in this room.
“Well, we’ll go through a list of options together and you can say yes or no to all of them. And then when we begin, you won’t know which one of your yeses is coming.” I slide my hand up to cover her eyes as I speak, pulling her head into the crook of my neck. She gasps softly as she loses her vision but allows me to move her body without putting up a fight.
Her immediate submission does things to me.
“So…you’ll be in complete control,” she says softly, pensively.
“That’s the idea,” I murmur into her neck, excited that she seems to be on board.
The feeling is short lived.
She pulls from my grasp and turns to face me, hands on her hips.
“But aren’t you trying to work on your control issues? I feel like if this was a novel, your character would be better served by being the one who gets tied up. The one who has to release control.”
A thought I’m not entertaining for even a moment. “Is that what happens in your Fifty Shades novel?”
“No.”
“Good. Because that’s not what’s happening here, either.”
“I just think it could be good for you?—”
“You are one more word away from a ball-gag.”
Her hands fly up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll be good.”
“You are very good. You please me so much. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“I guess?”
I chuckle at her adorable, sassy personality, which refuses to dim, even though I can feel her body reacting to my words.
“You guess you want to please me?”
“I just mean…you’re always talking about how much you like being surprised. I don’t see how there’s any room for surprises here. I mean, for me, yeah. I’ll be tied up and probably blindfolded. But you’re just going to be going through the motions.”
“Your reactions are my surprise. My delight. Every time I touch you, I get to see how it affects you. Every time I surprise you, I get to hear the little noises you make.” I spin her suddenly so her back presses to me once more, using one hand to cover her eyes while the other snakes around her throat. She gasps.
“Yes, just like that.”
Her gasp sends a jolt of electricity and power through my veins. I want more.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, you can do all this stuff to me.”
I chuckle softly and release her, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a soft black scarf. “It’s not that simple.”
I turn back and find her watching me.
“There are forms and rules to go over,” I start to explain.
“Ah, Ben’s box.”
I inhale, smooth and steady, as I let her jab pass through me.
She’s trying to rile me, but it”s not going to work. Not down here.
“There will come a time during our games down here when you will earn punishment for statements like that.”
“Ooh, punishment? And it’s my job to pretend that I don’t want it?”
I laugh softly and shake my head at her summary of BDSM, an oversimplification, but not entirely incorrect. “That will be part of your role, yes.”
“I can do that.” Her voice is almost a whisper as I reach for her, using both hands to push her hair back over her shoulders. She shivers slightly from the smallest brush of my hands across her face. I cannot wait to see what she does when my touch is a bit more firm.
“For today, I thought we could just play around a little. Introduce you to being in the room. Nothing heavy, nothing painful or scary. We can talk about all that stuff later.”
“Once you have my liability waiver signed?” she whispers as I reach up to tie the black cloth over her eyes.
“Exactly.”
I take a step back and take her in now that she can’t see me.
She’s stunning. The black cloth hides her sharp, wise, green eyes, but I can still see her mind working as her teeth chew softly on her bottom lip. She’s dressed simply in a dark green sundress, her feet bare after having abandoned her sandals on the deck and her toenails painted lavender to match her fingernails. A simple gold bracelet is the only jewelry she wears. I’ve noticed the same bracelet a few times before and examined it once while she slept. It”s a delicate chain that doesn’t seem to have a clasp.
She shifts back and forth on her feet. I know from experience that her senses are reaching out as far as they can in all directions, trying to decide where I’m standing. Trying to predict what’s coming next. I’m still and quiet a few feet away so she can”t find me. It’s making her nervous. That’s not my goal right now, so I let out an audible breath. Her whole attention turns in my direction.
“Why don’t you get down on your knees.”
She obeys, tucking her skirt between her thighs and calves as she sits on her heels. Her hands smooth the front as she settles there, looking up to where she’s decided I must be.
“You look stunning down there.”
“Thank you,” she answers without hesitation.
I smile to myself. “For the next little while, I’m going to ask you not to talk unless I ask you a question directly or otherwise ask you to speak.”
“Okay.”
My smile widens. It’s been a while since I scened with anyone so inexperienced. The women at the club I visit in the city are all professionals. “That was you speaking out of turn.”
I wait to see if she’s going to speak again, but she doesn’t. Her mouth twists to the side briefly and then she relaxes.
“Good girl. I knew you had it in you to obey.”
Her forehead crinkles at the word, but she doesn’t speak.
I kneel in front of her, so close that my knees touch hers. She leans forward at the sudden contact but doesn’t make a move to touch me.
“I’m going to touch your arms and legs now. Is that okay?”
She nods.
“I’m going to need you to speak your consent aloud for me.”
She laughs. “Speak, don’t speak. Make up your mind.”
“Oh, you think sass is a good idea at a time like this, do you? Would you like me to spank you for that disobedience?”
“Sure.”
I’m grateful for her blindfold now as a wide grin spreads across my face. It’s all I can do not to laugh. I take a deep breath and hold it together. “You like being spanked like a bad girl?”
She shrugs. “It would be a first for me, but it sounds fine. As long as you promise to fuck me afterward.”
“I think we should go back to you not speaking.”
She raises her hand to her lips and mimes zipping them closed.
“And you just lost the use of those.” I pull a second silk tie from my pocket and secure her wrists behind her back.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she says.
I consider scolding her once again for speaking, but I have a feeling she’s only doing it to get a rise out of me, so I give her the opposite.
I stand and cross the room to the cabinet once more. I promised a small dose of low-key play for our first time down here, but I’m suddenly at a loss. I’m so used to feeling in control, letting my intuition guide my next step in situations like this, but it’s failing me. As I turn to look back at the woman kneeling in the center of the floor, all I can think about is how I can impress her.
That’s the last thing that should be on my mind right now.
I choose a long feather and cross back to where she kneels. I might have to make this a short session and rethink my entire plan for bringing her down here in the future.
I kneel behind her and blow softly on the bare skin of her neck to let her know how close I am. She tenses and then relaxes with a soft sigh. When I touch down on her collarbone with the feather, however, it’s a different story.
She squirms away from me, looking back even though I know she can”t see a thing under that blindfold. “You are not going to tickle me.”
I smile. “And what if I do?”
“I thought you were going to beat me or drip hot wax on me or something. I hate being tickled.”
I bring the feather down the back of her bound arm, watching the goosebumps rise with her temper. She shifts further so that she’s on her butt, facing me, mouth twisted into an indignant pout.
“You have your safeword if you want me to stop.”
I can see the effect my words have on her—it’s as if I issued a challenge. I might consider that a reason to stop the scene myself if we were doing any harder play, but I feel safe pushing this limit a bit.
“I’m not going to use my safeword.”
“Okay, then.” I drag the feather so softly down her calf. She’s not expecting it and jumps nearly a foot.
“I won’t use my safeword, but I will run.”
I pause, considering her words. I have the still, meditative feeling in my chest that scening always brings me, but there’s no denying the flare of excitement that grows as the meaning of her statement settles in.
I can’t decide which feeling I want more.
“This isn’t really a game where one person runs,” I say.
“It is if I get up and run.”
“I would prefer us to wait until we have some time to talk about boundaries, consent, and hard limits.”
“You want consent and limits? Okay. I, Victoria Easton, hereby consent to let Ben Adams use my body, including all my fun holes, mouth, pussy, and ass, in whatever way he sees fit. He can chase me, tackle me, call me names, tie me up, force me to be quiet. Hard limits are starvation, anything involving poop, and doing things in public.”
Well, it’s hard to argue with that.
My rock-hard cock and gritted teeth certainly agree.
I’m torn between wanting to show respect for the sanctuary I’ve built down here, to follow the strict rules of the world that has offered me so much personal growth, to honor the time I’ve spent honing my control both in and out of the dungeon…and giving in to her.
Because, truth be told, even surrounded by every implement of pleasure and pain that I thought I could ever need in life, there’s still nothing in the world I want to do more than chase this woman down.
I close my eyes as I hold a mental conference with myself. Try as I might, I find absolutely no compelling arguments for denying myself this.
“If you run…” I start, my voice low and gravely, spoken into her ear much closer than she was expecting. “You better hope I don’t catch you.”
The moment of heated silence that follows is a living thing between us. Victoria’s breathing is audible, and I can almost watch her consider her options.
Then I take them away with one soft swipe of the feather across the back of her knee.
She’s on her feet in an instant in an impressive display of strength considering her hands are tightly bound behind her. She runs for a few feet until she meets the wall, smacking straight into it at full speed. I flinch as I watch her nearly fall to her ass as she tries to recover from the blow.
But then, impressively, she’s back on the wall, dragging her body across the flat surface, searching for the door she knows is there somewhere.
I watch her with my arms folded, harder and more rabidly turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.
“What’s the hurry, kitten? We were just getting started.”
She doesn”t let my voice interrupt her work, if anything, she searches more frantically. When her nose grazes across what she knows must be the doorframe, she lets out a small squeak of triumph.
I let my shoes sound loudly on the floor as I walk slowly toward where she’s got her back to the door, head bowed in concentration as she tries to use her bound hands to turn the knob.
I lighten my steps and approach silently, leaning down until my mouth is just inches away from her ear. “What makes you so sure I haven’t deadbolted it?”
She jumps and lets out an actual shriek at the sound and proximity of my voice. It’s freaking music to my ears.
Fun.
This is fun.
There’s that word again. It’s no coincidence that it’s come up yet again when I’m with this woman. She’s fun. When I’m with her, I’m fun.
Wasn’t I having fun just moments earlier when I was blindfolding her and making her kneel?
It’s not the same, though. I know for sure I’m going to have to spend some time thinking about this, but now’s not that time.
My little prisoner has gotten the door open and is turning to make her escape down the hallway. I watch her go, letting her get almost to the staircase leading back up to the main floor before I bound after her, taking her down in one swoop.
I get another real, honest to god scream for my efforts, the sound is painful, exciting, and gloriously erotic.
“Did you really think you were going to get away from me?”
“Let me go!”
She’s thrashing violently in my arms, her back pinned against the tile staircase. I hold her there easily. My position, and the fact that she can’t access her arms or vision, makes keeping her pinned barely a challenge.
“You know, I was going to go easy on you. I told you that over and over. We were just going to play a little. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You had to go and spoil it by running. Do you know what I’m going to do now?”
“Let me go!” she cries out again, attempting to use her head and teeth to dislodge me.
I laugh, the sound so evil it surprises me. “Nope. That’s incorrect.”
She’s struggled so much that I don’t even have to push her dress up, it’s already bunched around her waist. Her lacy panties are in full view, and damn if they’re not tempting.
Not to mention what waits underneath.
What was it she said in her little speech about consent? And her fun holes. I laugh again at the memory, the sound just as evil as before.
“What’s wrong with you?” she demands.
She’s starting to tire. I can hear it in her voice and feel it in her struggle.
“What’s wrong with me? I’m just trying to have a nice afternoon. You’re the one trying to ruin it.”
“You’re sick.”
I slide my hand under her panties and find her glorious wetness waiting for me. My fingers slip inside her with ease. “Really. Would a sick man do this?” I pump her a few times as she struggles—but this time, she’s struggling to get my hand to brush up against her clit.
“Yes,” she manages to get out, her head hanging back. “That’s exactly what a sick man would do.”
I reach up and pull the top of her dress down with my other hand, her breasts bouncing free. She screams again and thrashes from side to side, causing them to swing. If I could reach them with my mouth while still holding her like this, those delicious looking nipples would be in a world of trouble.
I’m still pressing my fingers into her, pumping hard, and she’s thrashing back and forth, but with a downward pressure that I know is rubbing her just the right way.
My cock is throbbing to be set free to join the fun, but there’s no time for that yet. She’s on the edge, and I can’t decide whether to let her get there.
What kind of punishment would it be if I did?
I stop my movement suddenly, pulling away and using both hands to pull her dress up and over her head, leaving it tangled around her bound arms.
Victoria screams again, but this time in frustration.
She’s naked and feral in my arms, her denied orgasm turning to rage on her lips. I spin her so she’s kneeling on the step above where I kneel, my arm still tight around her waist. I did promise a spanking earlier, and there’s no time like the present.
I lay into her, my palm landing loudly on her ass over and over until her skin is bright pink and she’s wailing.
And then I finally free my cock.
It slides into her drenched core in one hard plunge, and we both gasp at the contact. She’s still trying to hold up her end of the game and fight me, but she can barely manage to shift her shoulders back and forth.
She’s exhausted and trapped and mine. All mine.
I hold her hip with one hand, the other presses firmly into her back so she stays pinned to the staircase while I fuck the living hell out of her. I’m a madman. Something in me must have snapped because I pound into her body over and over like I’m trying to exorcize a demon.
Sweat slides from my forehead in long drips that land on her back as I pump. “What do you have to say for yourself now?” I growl out as I pull her head up to meet mine by fisting my hand in her hair.
“If you don’t make me come,” she starts, her voice feral and otherworldly, growling out of her dry mouth in a snarl.
“Oh, she’s about to make a threat. I’m so scared.”
She goes on as if I hadn’t interrupted. “Then I”m going to kill you in your sleep.”
The laugh that escapes my lips is the most joyous sound I’ve ever heard leave my own body—and I once watched the birth of my own son.
I’m so high on whatever it is that’s happening right now. So grateful to this woman for the bravery it must be taking her to offer it to me. So incredibly and undeniably happy.
I use her hair to pull her body up until I can hold her upright, squeezed against me with one arm while I continue to fuck her, slipping my other hand down to give her clit a little pinch.
She cries out and forces her hips forward into my hand, grinding against me as best as she can with my cock still impaling her.
I give her what she wants, only because it”s also what I want. She comes spectacularly as I fill her and rub her clit, the firm clench of her pussy around me enough to push me over the edge as well.
I bellow out my pleasure as I feel my body empty into hers, pumping into the pulse of our combined orgasms. When I can”t hold her any longer, my body gives way, my arms falling to my sides like dead weight.
Victoria tips forward, unable to catch herself with anything but her core strength since her hands are still tied. I muster up the last of my energy to catch her before she hits the stairs and release the silk tie.
She slips the blindfold down and crawls up a few stairs before turning to face me, legs splayed, leaning back on her elbows. Her hair is an absolute mess, but the glow on her skin is radiant, as is her grin. “Okay, then,” she says, laughing.
My whole body is bowed from exertion, but I manage to join her in a laugh as I shake my head.
“Now that was fun,” she whispers.
I just shake my head again. Not in disagreement, more like wonder or fascination.
Victoria reaches out one bare foot and uses it to slap my bicep. I finally look up into her grinning face.
“You okay?” she asks.
I nod, still catching my breath. I’m not sure what my face looks like, but it makes her slide down a few steps until she’s on the stair above where I kneel, straddling my knees with her thighs. “You need me to call a doctor or something, old man?”
I’m finally able to get a full breath in, and I let it out in a laugh. “I think I’ll be okay.”
“All right,” she says, still looking a little suspicious. “I don’t want to break you.”
“I was trying to break you.”
She laughs and uses the handrail to drag herself to her feet, pulling her dress down. “Not going to happen.”
I can see the evidence of our orgasms dripping down her inner thighs. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
She sits back down a few steps up, legs together, looking far too put together after what just went on. I continue to kneel here like a fallen soldier.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t more fun than watching me sit in front of you in that silent room.”
“It was certainly different.”
“It was fun.”
I nod. “It was fun.”
She’s just watching me now, as if she’s waiting for me to offer some deep insight, but I have none. My entire understanding of myself and my life is sitting in shambles at my feet, and I need a bit of alone time to pick up the pieces before I’ll be able to speak sensibly about them to another person.
“What’s next?” I ask, just to distract her.
She cocks her head to the side. “Next, I thought I’d go find the pool. There must be one in this place.”
“Oh, of course. It’s just out?—”
“I’m joking, Ben. There’s no way anyone missed the massive pool directly in front of the house.”
“Right. Perfect. Well, I’ll meet you out there in a few.”
She tosses one more concerned glance in my direction before skipping up the stairs and out of view.
I collapse. Straight up collapse onto the hard stone steps. I roll onto my back and groan, every muscle in my body protesting something—what I can’t quite tell. All I know is that I feel broken. And, based on my level of fitness, and my self-induced punishing workouts, I have a feeling the break wasn’t physical.