The Alexandra Series (25 page)

Read The Alexandra Series Online

Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau

Tags: #Erotica

I stared into the empty space in front of me as if in a trance. “Reggie, I can’t turn back,” I finally managed to say. I spoke so softly I wasn’t sure I actually voiced my thoughts aloud until he answered me.

“I didn’t think you would. But you have to understand that the drama has changed.”

“I do understand.” Only then did I dare look at him.

Our eyes met and he peered at me just as he had on the night of my initiation by Elliot. It didn’t take him as long to find what he was searching for this time.

“Good,” he replied. “Finish your hamburger and we’ll see if there’s a decent movie across the street.”

With the decision made, the inner storm in me seemed to settle; an unexpected but certain peace calmed the simmering agitation that had not left me since the first moment I laid eyes on this incredible man.

Chapter Twenty-five

I expected the extraordinary.

I was not disappointed.

“Your car arrives at 8:00 p.m. Shave yourself clean and wear these.”

I hadn’t seen him in two days, his note startled me.

As I slowly removed the soft pubic hair from my sex, I could feel the sexual heat inside me rise and my pussy moisten. I stood before the mirror with the shaving cream tickling my mound. With each stroke of the sharp razor, I became more exposed, more vulnerable and bold. Just as I was finishing, I had to pause for a moment as a sudden orgasm had me writhing against my hand even before I could wipe the last of the cream and hair way.

I felt weak afterwards, but was still aroused. I looked at my naked body in the mirror, seeing my soft full labia between my legs, and the inner lips of my cunt peeking red and rosy beneath. I’d never seen myself this way, never been this completely exposed. I thought of Reggie, and how I would give him everything tonight. Even things I’d balked at before would be available to him because I was making myself a gift to him.

I struggled with the thought of wearing the clothes he laid out for me. Seeing them, I had to wonder where he’d take me, certainly someplace away from the safety of the house, and that gave me reason for concern. But this was Reggie’s show not mine, and I knew above anything else that he’d protect me.

Athena helped me lace myself into the tightly cinched corset. It was made of chains, little chains that fit snuggly around my torso. They were anchored into a leather waistband, while attached to the bottom of the waistband were leather straps that ran snuggly between my legs, parting each side of my smooth pussy and opening it to the air that caressed the sensitive flesh. The chains were not tight enough to cut flesh, but they did rub against my skin, a constant reminder that I was Reggie’s property and this night belonged to him. I liked to think that even though he was the author of the drama, and I just an actor in his play, that this was my dream too. I was a bottomless pit of desire, and though there was a great deal of mystery and intrigue shrouding the master’s plans, I greeted the night like a welcome friend.

Once Athena was gone, I finished dressing before the long mirror, slowly raising the sheer black stockings over my long legs and fastening them to the chain garters that hung from the bottom of the corset. The black stilettos were at least five inches high. Once on my feet, they lifted my body into a graceful profile. I gazed in the mirror, a bit in awe of what he’d made of me. I was not only taller but more statuesque, and the effect only added to the explicit sexuality.

He’d chosen small diamond studs for my ears, which added just enough sparkle to complement the silver and black feathered mask that covered nearly half my face. There was something comforting about that mask, as if I’d put on a new persona, a magical guise that would allow me to open the door of Reggie’s underworld and transform myself into a mystical animal. He certainly had a flair for drama, one that matched my own.

Did he see me as an exotic beast, an exquisite bird, or something altogether new that only he could bring to life? Perhaps the mask hid my true identity, but I liked to think that it only brought out the beastly beauty inside me. I was almost disappointed that I wouldn’t be traipsing through the house so exotically attired. However, for the sake of some degree of modesty there was a flowing silk cape that completely covered my outrageous costume and the exposed body parts. As daring as I might have been while alone in my room, I was actually relieved that Reggie didn’t expect me to walk into the world so scandalously attired. Instead, I descended the stairs as an elegant woman going to some elaborate costume ball.

A black limousine was already parked outside the house, but to my surprise Reggie was not inside. I slid into the back seat at eight o’clock sharp, and rather than wait for Reggie to join us, the driver sped away. Even he was a mysterious element of the night – someone I knew or a stranger? I had no idea, with a black glass partition separating the front seat from the rear of the limo.

I settled back into the leather comfort listening to the piped in music – a sexy rock beat that had me ready to dance, although that was not a feat I could accomplish in the close quarters of the limousine. Beside me on a small table was champagne and cherries, luscious tastes befitting of the evening. I downed one glass, poured a second and within minutes I could feel the alcohol working, my brain a little buzzed. I wondered about Reggie, about how he’d look, his manner, his attitude, and what he had planned for the night. I told myself that I was prepared for anything, but the fact was, I wasn’t prepared at all. I had no idea to what depth his fantasy would take me. Of course, that was the point, wasn’t it? Tap into my fears, arouse myself with the unknown. Titillating, yes, but terrifying at the same time.

When the car came to an abrupt stop, I peered through the dark windows, shocked to see, not some luxurious mansion before me but a crumbling old building, a warehouse I guessed, one dark and forbidding and ancient, with history behind it and mysteries I couldn’t even fathom.

This was definitely not the place my fertile mind imagined.

As the limo door opened, I looked up to see a man in a suit wearing a black hood – all too reminiscent of an executioner. Reggie certainly hadn’t spared the theatrics. I offered him my trembling hand, and as his warm one helped lift me to my feet, a shudder of fear raced through my body – one so deep that I might have sank back in the limo and asked the driver to take me home. I’m quite sure Reggie’s unwavering command of me was all that kept me moving forward. I was instantly transported back to that moment in
The Tropics
when I chose to run rather than face my fear. Oddly, once this mystery man pulled the cape back off my shoulders, my urgent anxiety seemed to fade. I was entirely exposed now. The drama had finally begun. If some car were to pass by at that moment, or someone were to walk through this distressed neighborhood they would have seen a masked woman of regal bearing clothed only in chains, nylons and stilettos. Sadly, no one passed through the deserted place, and there was no one to see my amazing transformation.

My unseen guide bound my wrists together behind me and pushed me forward through the warehouse door and into a building that had been trashed some time before. We worked our way through a maze of rooms, up and down stairs and deep into the interior of the nasty decaying structure. Rather than disgust me as it would in the light of day, my journey intrigued me. Each step, each staircase, each door I walked through brought me closer to the scene I had been waiting for.

At last, we entered a room that was entirely bathed in shadows. My guide stopped me there, and as he backed away, a dozen figures in masks and leather and chains emerged from the darkness to surround me. Then with no greeting or introduction of any sort my arms were unceremoniously raised high and fixed to a beam above my head. My hands and legs were spread wide. The masked figures pawed me, each one a surreal animal. As their attention to me continued I began to relax and allowed my mind to drift from the anxiety to the sensations of that incredible moment. I was almost orgasmic just from the sensuous limo ride, the cool night air and suspenseful walk through the warehouse. And now this intimate attention could have taken me to the brink within seconds. I sensed that the surrounding phantoms knew that. They backed off and refused to take me where my body wanted to go.

I hung there waiting, seeing several other women and men who were similarly displayed. Then the sound of leather striking their flesh, and groans and screams filled my ears as they rose above the pounding music that already played my body like a sexual instrument. I could hardly wait for them to attend to me with their whips. My body craved the sharp feel of leather on skin, the pain and their attention.

I heard myself begging the moving figures around me, as I struggled to be noticed. I urged them with my writhing body, murmuring, “Oh, please,” a dozen times over, groaning all the while.

“You gotta want it more, bitch,” one masked and leathered form suddenly snarled at me. He pinched my labia hard and walked away.

“Please,” I pleaded.

A hand abruptly slapped my face. I felt the force of the blow travel erotically down my body. Opening my eyes, I found myself staring into Reggie’s cold blank face. He was the only unmasked person in the room.

For the first time in my long journey with him he was about to take me. No more games, no more waiting, no more giving me away to someone else.

“I am going to torture and punish you, slut. I’ll pierce you so that you can never forget that I have mastered you.” With his gaze dark and his voice distant, he had only one more thing to say. “I fear you’ll regret ever having wanted me.”

I met his threats not with fear but desire. Everything he said to me only raised my body heat higher. And there was no way I could imagine regretting this night or any of the others that I’d endured at his hand.

With a fresh burst of passion, I baited him, seething, “You fucking bastard…” in a low growl. I was certain to increase the fire of his passion with my own.

My scheme worked.

He clamped my nipples while staring coldly into my eyes. I felt the challenge in them and came right back, my body now an inferno of lust all aimed in his direction. Without hesitation, methodically, meticulously and deliberately, he worked me over with every tool he owned. Through the gloomy darkness I could see them laid out on a table before me, taunting me. I lusted after each one. He walked around me with a leather thong and rapped it playfully against my skin. He slapped my bottom with his hand, a brisk sting rising instantly. He used his tawse and crop and cane, then laid a razor strap hard and fast where his tools had just reddened my flesh. I could feel the heat of this fine torture making my body scream to the point where the spasms in my crotch wouldn’t stop. They went on and on, each spasm fueling the next.

The strap on my naked ass burned me so that even when he stopped, the heat from it continued on, the scorching sensations spreading everywhere.

And then the cat o’nine tails.

All my fantasies were laden with Technicolor pictures of the effect this instrument would have on my bound body.

“You ready for this, my love?” He held the leather handle before my eyes so I could clearly see the nine thin cords dangling ominously before me. He snapped it at his side with an air of authority that chilled me to the bone. His naked tightly muscled torso was sweating with his own heat. His leather pants, fitting like a second skin, showed off the bulge in his crotch. I wanted what resided there, expecting his erection to be large and very hard.

He gave me only a moment to relish the sight of him. After cracking his instrument of terror against the floor again, he moved behind me and began laying it against my wanting body. At first his strokes were light, almost delicate, enough to have me mesmerized. Then he ran the leather cords over my skin, teasing me as if he were using a feather on my aroused flesh. Just as I relaxed into the heavenly feeling of those nine tails, he abruptly cracked them furiously against me, sending searing punishment to every corner of my body and bringing tears to my eyes. His blows hailed down on me one after another in succession, five, six, seven. I lost count.

Just as suddenly as it started, he stopped.

I was left with an incredible nothingness for several seconds with my body still jerking from the spasms he’d raised. I wanted more. This was hardly enough.

But he was finished for the moment. He grabbed my cunt, shook it hard, probed it with his fingers and pinched my clit until I could barely stand the pain. One last cruel shake of his grabbing fist and he backed off.

“There will be more,” he said, and he walked away.

I waited an interminable time, while minutes of delirium and dungeon music and dungeon noise climbed right down to my core and shook me as hard as Reggie’s hand. I craved more release, more punishment, more of the divine abuse. I wanted it deeper and more severe. And as if it was just another of my own creations, I was rewarded for my thoughts when the ‘cat’ struck again, this time with greater force, the snap, the bite, the sting, the pain, over and over were everything I desired to satisfy the raging unmet need my fantasies had been aiming at for so long.

He finished off the punishment with several blows that made me scream at the top of my lungs in a joyous abandon, and I collapsed against myself, finally knowing it was over.

Done, Reggie moved rapidly, tightening the clamps on my nipples; the shooting pain enlivening my cunt even more. I craved something beyond. I knew what it was, did he? When I caught his gaze he answered my silent pleas decisively.

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