Fulfilling Her Fantasy (4 page)

"Gosh
honey, is that all?" Ellen took her mug from the table and blew gently
into it. "And there was me thinking it was something really extreme."

"No,
not really. I still don't know why I have such a hard time talking about
it."

"Okay,
so we've cleared up the what and the why. Now we just have to work out the
whom
."

"What
do you mean?"

"He's
attractive enough, if you like that hulking, menacing, arms-like-oak-trees kind
of thing. Personally, I prefer my men to be a little more… approachable. Jeeze,
there are some serious hunks wandering around the Castle at all hours of the
day and night. So why on
earth
,"
she emphasized the word in her deep, Southern drawl, "would you want to
play with the Master Gaoler?"

Janice
took a sip of her coffee and considered for a moment. "I'm not sure. I
think it's a combination of a bunch of factors. He just has this way of looking
at you…" she trailed off again at the memory of those dark, predatory
eyes. "I mean, have you ever watched him play? He's so amazingly detached.
And experienced. And yes, terrifying. No matter what he's doing to a
sub—assuming she doesn't have her back to him—his eyes never leave
her face. He's more in tune with her than she seems to be herself. If such a
thing is even possible. I guess I just want to know what that kind of expertise
feels like first-hand."

Ellen
raised an eyebrow. "What about sex?"

"What
about it?"

"If
he wanted to fuck you, would you let him?"

"Oh
honey, it's been so long since I got any kind of action, I don't think I'd take
much persuasion." Janice chuckled. She waited for Ellen to respond, but
then realized her friend was hurriedly tugging a comb through her hair and
slipping on her shoes.

"Have
you seen the time?" she squealed, by way of explanation. "I'm gonna
be late for work. And," she added pointedly, "so are you. Let's go.
You can dream about writhing under Master Dominick's expert hands later."

I already do
, Janice thought glumly, as she pulled on
her own shoes and followed her friend down the stairs to the second floor.
Every single night…

Dominick
was humming as he pulled on his black wrist cuffs, leather pants, boots and
belt. For once he wasn't going to wear his hood. The day had finally dawned…
the one he'd been looking forward to ever since that cute girl from the Salon
had approached him in the canteen a week previously.

She'd
glanced nervously about her, as if on a secret mission, and then hurried in his
direction. "Master Dominick, I was wondering whether we could have a quick
chat?"

He'd
taken one look at her glossy hair, her wide eyes and toned body, and wondered
whether Santa had delivered early this year. "We could have a long one if
you like."

A
different girl might have reacted differently to the unspoken invitation in his
voice, but this one had seemed immune. "No, it'll only take a
moment," she'd said.

Once
they'd moved to a quiet corner of the canteen, the girl—Ellen—had
explained that she was planning a treat for her friend, but she needed his
help.

"My
help? Are we talking about a guest?"

"No,
no, she works here. In Wardrobe."

"And
what would you like me to do?"

Dominick
had listened with growing fascination as Ellen described Janice; her looks, her
sweet, bubbly nature and, best of all, her deep desire to explore that heady
combination of pain and pleasure he so loved to deliver. "She a
brat?" he'd asked, as soon as Ellen paused for breath.

"Oh
God no, she's a complete sweetheart. She'd give you the shirt off her
back."

"Pun
intended?"

"Huh?"

Ellen's
vacant expression suggested that his little quip had gone right over her glossy
head.
Does no-one in this place have a
sense of humor anymore
? "I just meant because she works at
Ward—you know what, never mind. Does she know you're asking me
this?"

"Of
course not, it's a surprise. She's so lovely, you see, spends all her time
looking after the guests and making them look—and feel—amazing, and
after two years here, I figured she deserves a treat. She was thinking about
taking part in the auction but she decided she'd be needed at work
instead."

Better and better. Only someone really
keen to hand over control to someone else would sign up to be sold off
. "She a painslut?" Dominick
asked, idly running his thumb over his chin.

"Well,
that's the other thing. She is, but she hasn't played with anyone in
ages."

"Why
not?"

"She
was too scared to ask… er… the person she really wants to play with."
Ellen couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"Why?
He married or something?" Dominick already knew he wanted to grant this
pretty airhead her favor, but he enjoyed probing.

"No,
he… look, it doesn't matter. Anyway, are you interested?"

"Depends."
He casually examined his perfectly trimmed fingernails. "Is this… what's
her name?"

"Janice."

"Is
Janice open to giving as well as receiving?"

Ellen
widened her eyes even further. "Pain?"

He
snorted back his laughter. "No, silly. Pleasure. You said she wants to
receive… you think she'd be happy to reciprocate at all?"

Tossing
her hair over her shoulder, the girl had winked at him. "Let's just say, I
don't think she'd take a lot of convincing. Let me know when you have some free
time and I'll arrange the rest."

Unfortunately,
the auction preparations and Christmas had made it impossible for Dominick to
set aside a big enough slot of time until almost a full week after his chat
with Ellen.

All good
, he told himself, squirting on just the
tiniest spritz of his favourite cologne.
The
best things come… and all that.
At least the delay had given him plenty of
time to prepare. It was all he could do not to rub his hands together gleefully
at the thought of finally indulging his own desires once more.

At
first he'd worried that she'd be excruciatingly unattractive, but a couple of
days after their little chat Ellen had pointed her out, surreptitiously, in the
canteen, and to his amazed joy, Janice was anything but. Not the fake,
glamorous type of woman who turns heads everywhere she goes… instead she had a
natural, understated beauty. As he headed down to the dungeon to set up,
Dominick cracked his knuckles. He couldn't wait to see a whole lot more of
Janice close up.

***

Her
heart was pounding so fast she could almost hear it. Despite the fact that
she'd only recently showered, Janice could already feel the sweat beginning to
bead on her forehead. She was still reeling from the events of the past two
hours.
Damn Ellen. Damn her to hell and
back for putting me through this.

At
first she'd thought her friend had been joking when she'd told her to get ready
for a blind date. "Pick something sexy to wear," Ellen had said,
breezily. "Then come see me and I'll do your hair and make-up."

"You
didn't."

"I
didn't what?"

"You
did
not
tell Master D… Master
D"—damnit, she was never able to say his name out loud—"
him
what I told you the other day, did
you? In the strictest
confidence
?"
Janice was so angry she could barely breathe. But underneath her outrage, there
was something else. A thick, steady thumping between her thighs she couldn't
deny.

"Just
call me your fairy godmother," Ellen had said, with a wink. "You,
too, shall go to the ball, Cinderella. Although," she surveyed her friend's
comfortable clothing with a critical eye, "I can't help you with the ball gown.
That's your department. Go pick something sexy. Black. And heels."

"Are
you kidding me? There's no way I would ever, ever go through with this! I don't
even know what you've told him, for fuck's sake!"

"The
truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Ellen reached out and
took Janice's suddenly clammy palms. "You think he'd hurt you?"

Despite
herself, Janice giggled.

"You
know what I mean. In a bad way?"

"No.
And besides, that's what safewords are for."

"Trust
me, honey. If you don't do this, you are gonna regret it
forever
. Besides. It took so much planning, not to mention
co-ordinating his schedule with your day off! You really wanna be the one to go
down there and tell him the whole thing isn't going to happen?" Her eyes
narrowed. "He'd be
so
upset."

Ellen
always did have a tendency to be melodramatic, but Janice found herself
trotting obediently to Wardrobe all the same… this time to dress herself. She
didn't think for one cotton-picking minute that the Master Gaoler would give
two hoots whether or not she showed up, but that insistent hum between her legs
was making it clear that perhaps she ought to at least go down and see him. And
if she was going to go down and call it off, she might as well look her best.

And
so it came to pass that, two hours later, with her auburn curls straightened to
fall, sleek and glossy, down her back, wearing a rather tight black silk
negligee and patent black platform heels, her face perfectly made up and every
inch of her body still tender from being freshly waxed, Janice was creeping
carefully down the foreboding steps to the dungeons.

A
lone constable stood at the entrance. He looked her up and down and folded his
arms. "You Janice?"

Breathlessly,
she nodded.

With
a jerk of his head, the man indicated for her to go inside. "Third door on
the left. Sit down on the chair. He'll join you shortly."

With
her heart in her mouth, Janice found herself walking down the corridor; the
once-familiar, heady medieval dungeon atmosphere suddenly giving her a strange
sense of foreboding. Somewhere, someone screamed.

As
if on autopilot, she followed the constable's directions, swallowing hard as
she saw the lone wooden chair placed in the center of the dark chamber.
Deliberately ignoring the impressive display of wicked implements and custom
furniture neatly arranged along all four walls, she sat down, realizing
immediately that she now had her back to the door.

A
minute passed. Then two.

This
was not what she had planned.
I wanted to
talk to him, for fuck's sake! To
maybe
negotiate a scene! Not to walk straight into one!

And
yet something was keeping her there; as if glued to the hard seat of that
simple wooden chair. The pulse between her legs was growing stronger.

***

"Well,
well, well, what have we here?" Dominick didn't miss the way she'd started
at the sudden sound of his voice behind her. "No," he went on,
firmly, "don't look around. Keep your eyes straight ahead."

He
picked up a strand of her silky hair, letting it slide over his fingers.

Janice
shivered.

Leaning
down, he deliberately let his lips caress her ear as he murmured, "You are
a beautiful little thing, aren't you? I do appreciate the effort you obviously
went to on my behalf."

"Th-thank
you. Sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Tell
me, little Miss Janice… what turns you on?"

Closing
her eyes, she shook her head just the slightest bit.

"Hmm?"
he went on, running an idle finger down the bare flesh of her arm.

She
jumped as if she'd been branded.

"If
you don't tell me, little one, I'll just have to find out for myself. And I
must warn you…" Dominick paused, stepping around her and tracing her
flushed cheek, "I might well discover some things you really
don't
like in the process."

Janice
looked at him then, her hazel eyes glazed with terrified desire. He smiled.
"Do you consent?"

She
nodded.

"I
can't hear you!"

"Yes…
yes, I c-consent, Sir."

"Excellent.
Safewords: red for stop, yellow for go slow. Official Castle safeword, only in
an absolute emergency. Am I clear?"

"Y-yes,
Sir."

He
watched the flush darken on her cheeks. She really was too adorable.
"Stand up."

Slowly,
she unfurled her slim, shapely body from the chair, unable to meet his eyes.
"I hear you quite enjoy being spanked. Is that so?"

Janice
made a tiny noise—something between a whimper and a groan—in the
back of her throat.

Quick
as a flash, Dominick took a fistful of her long hair and tilted her face up to
meet his. "Let's get one thing clear, sweetheart," he said in a low
voice, "You will answer all my questions. And you will do so honestly. I
came here today fully prepared to let you enjoy the experience as much as I
intend to do… but believe me, I have absolutely no reservations about changing
my mind. Understood?"