Swept Away: The First Bloodline Page 14
“Hope you have early night planned for me then.” She reached down guzzling the drink. “Next.” He smiled waving in the air at the waitress gesturing for another.
“What do these bands mean?”
“Remind me later and I will tell you but for right now, don’t worry about it.” That damn smile of his scared the shit out of her now.
Thirty minutes and three drinks later, her lips tingled. She became giddy, carefree. Laughing. Have a magnificent time. For the last forty five minutes they laughed, talked, danced twice, and every part of her body had relaxed, which was exactly what he had hoped.
“Ok. Sweet. Showtime.”
“Ooh. Drinks and a movie.” I don’t know if I will be able to sit still but ok. You got it. He gripped her shoulders keeping her steady. I’m nowhere near drunk, but I am definitely one hundred percent tipsy.
He led her into the back. Down a long hallway. She seen doors with different colored circles on them as if the color represented something. He pulled her shoulders to a stop turning her to the right. His fingertips slid lightly down her arms before he placed the key in the door. Taylor focused on the crimson colored circle, wondering what was different about this room than the others.
The room was dark. She couldn’t see anything and no longer felt his touch. A bright light blinded her momentarily. She stumbled back at the view right into his rock hard body. She knew it was him as his hands were back on her shoulders. She pulled away quickly looking at him and then back towards the room.
“What the hell is this? Our room looks like a freaking torture chamber.” He didn’t answer her, allowing her to take in the room.
The room was gigantic in size. The walls, ceiling and floor were blood red. Again she thought about it being appropriate colored but this time it was beginning to make her nervous. She glanced over the king size bed that was dressed in black satin sheets. To black ropes were attached and hanging from the headboard and then again on the footboard.
She turned away from the bed quickly, not wanting to see anything else where he thought she would be sleeping.
Her heart began racing at near record rate. She stared at a table that looked like it should belong in an emergency room exam room. Only this table had shackles on it. Shackles hang from the ceiling on guides attached to other guides, giving her the impression that the shackles could be moved anywhere in the room.
What looked like a tool chest caught her eye next. The kind that that was usually red and chrome with several skinny drawers. This one was black and chrome. No windows were in the room. A black door she assumed was a closet. She suddenly felt like she was trapped in a horror movie with nowhere to run.
A long black attachment with hooks hang on the opposite wall, with many petrifying objects hanging from it. Multiple horse whips, black, various lengths. A bar with cuffs on each end about 2 feet in length. She now realized this was what the heroine must of felt like when she entered the hero’s playroom.
This room was either decorated after the book or the author had written it after this room. Not a perfect match but the same scary as hell feeling. And this room had one thing the other room didn’t have. Damien.
She heard a lock and turned quickly. Damien now stood by the door. His jacket and sweater now hung on a nearby rack. His chest was bare and if they were back in the suite she would have been all over him just by drinking in the sight. But they weren’t in the suite. They were here. Where she thought for sure he was going to attempt to horsewhip her.
His mouth crooked up into a small flat grin. He stepped towards her and she found for the first time, she was stepping away from him. He cocked his head to the side but still walked closing the gap. She stepped to the right, attempting to get passed him but he was there. She went to the left and again she was face to face with his bare chest.
“Damien, I don’t want this.” She was just about to do anything including begging. He didn’t make a sound. His hands gripped the bottom of her shirt and even though her mind was saying don’t do it, her arms lifted all on their own and she now realized this was out of her control. She wanted to cry but no tears came. She wanted to scream but she couldn’t remember how.
She heard a snap as he moved in a turtle like pace, sliding her bra down exposing her from the waist up. She gasped a deep breath of air. Her mouth moved but no words came out. He dropped it to the floor and then a single finger was against her lips hushing her silent pleas. He caressed from her lip down to the button of her pants. If she knew he wasn’t going to beat her half to death, this would have been hot as hell. But something inside her was telling her he was going to cause her intense pain. Why else would he have brought her here to this room?
Kneeling in front of her, he slid her pants and panties down to her ankles. The only part of her body that moved was her head following his every movement looking for a sign that he was literally about to snap into a manic psychosis.
His lips twitched from a brief smile back to a flat line, before he leaned his head forward and teased her with his tongue just above her clit, to her navel, as he moved her hands from her sides to his shoulders.
Without a thought of it, her left foot came up. He gripped her shoe pulling it off and quietly set it down. He finished the removal of her clothes then her foot was flat to the floor as he repeated his exact movement with the other side.
His tongue was wet, cool, a tormenting muscle as he made a pattern from her inner thigh up her center, through her navel, across her sternum, up her neck and ending at her chin. She felt herself ready to scream out in pleasure from just that act alone.
Turning he stepped to the closet. She could only see him pulling a small bit of hanger free. He turned holding a black, silk robe. Automatically her arms raised, her body imitating a T. The sudden movement made her very well aware he was in complete control of her body.
In a flash he stood in front of her. Her eyes blinked trying to refocus to the sudden closeness. He dressed her in the robe, tying it closed in the front. She breathed a sigh of relief for now. She watched his large hand come out in front of her, palm up. With another blind he was holding a pair of black, very high heels.
Is there anything you can’t do? He winked at her answering her question but his mouth remained flat.
Blinking again the heels were on and the change in height and the feeling on her feet made her aware of their new place. She looked down as if she needed to see it to believe it. Looking back up, his chest was no longer bare but covered by a black t-shirt. She looked at his chest admiring the how the muscles shown through then back into his eyes.
“Taylor I need you to listen carefully to every word I am about to say. We are going to go watch different scenes now. Keep in mind that this is new to you but the people that are in these scenes, are well experienced and have chosen this life. You cannot attempt to interfere. I will stop you at the first thought of it. Keep your mind as open as you have with me and the way I am. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice shook but she was glad she had her voice back. Her throat however was dry more than likely because she had been breathing so fast and hard more like panting. Again he smiled as he raised her glass to his mouth, taking a large amount before lowering his mouth to hers. She graciously opened for him, drinking from his mouth until there was nothing left.
Damien nipped at her lip before pulling away from her. Again she could come off of that single act. His eyes flashed red with his blink but with the next they were back to the dark brown she had grown used to. Had fallen in love with.
Gripping her hand, he walked her to the door. He pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked it then proceeded to lead them into the hall. The door closed automatically behind them and locked.
Taylor looked down the hall noticing several women dressed identically to her being led by men dressed just like Damien. Everyone seemed to be going in the same direction as Taylor and Damien, leaving her to wonder where they were headed. After entering another room, everyone
began taking seats. No one sat in front leaving Taylor again, to question what the deal with the front row was.
“C’mon, we will.” He whispered leading her, then gesturing for her to sit. She did. It was almost as if they were at a school play. Long dark purple curtains were drawn blocking what she assumed was a stage and about 3 feet in front of her.
“Remember what I said. You cannot interfere. This is what she wants. What he wants. What they both want together. This is a lifestyle for everyone around and just as you would be insulted if they interfered in your life, you cannot with theirs.” Taylor nodded understanding his words.
The lights began to dim. “Take a drink Sweet.” She reached for the glass he was holding in front of her. After nervously draining the liquid courage again he took the empty glass. That had made her fourth drink. Taylor was surprised she wasn’t on the verge of being drunk. She had felt a buzz earlier but one look at the room, she had sobered up.
Slowly the curtains opened. A woman stood on the stage. She was wearing a leather appearing bikini, minus the cups for the top, and the front of the bottoms leaving her breast and cunt totally exposed to all. Her arms were bound into the shape of a Y above her. Her legs identical. She was beautiful. Or so Taylor thought.
She felt Damien loosen his grip on her hand. A man stepped from around the back corner. Light brown hair. Maybe a couple of inches on top and blended down to a shorter cut. It was a mess. As if he put gel in and purposely ran his fingers through it and was done. Tall. Dark complexion. Handsome. Muscular build. Smooth chest. Leather pants. Muscular legs. Bare feet. As wonderful as the man looked, he was way out of Damien’s league.
The man walked up to the woman. Taylor watched as he moved the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears. Her face was flushed. Like she was suffering from humility.
Lips brushed Taylor’s ear. “She is. Wait.”
The man faced the crowd. “I want to thank you all for coming. This is my first scene with a crowd as large as this.” He turned back to the woman standing to her side. “Sherry, why are you here?” His voice was stern.
“Because I upset you, Master.” Her voice trembled.
“Why are you here Sherry? I will not ask you again.” He scolded her.
“I wish to be punished for upsetting you, Master.” Again her voice was trembling low. Taylor could barely make out what she was saying.
“Say it loud.” He ordered.
“I wish to be punished for upsetting you, Master.”
“Do you like to be spanked Sherry?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you like to be whipped?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you like to have sex while other’s watch?”
She lowered her head. “No.” Taylor could hear the woman fighting not to cry.
“So how shall I punish you then?” His question wasn’t a question at all. He wanted her to say it. He wanted the witnesses to hear it.
“Fuck me here, Master. While they watch.”
“While who watches?”
“Your audience, Master.”
He smiled like he was pleased with himself. So this is like live porn. They are just acting. Taylor again felt relieved.
“Taylor, this is real. No actors.” Damien whispered again. “She has upset him and this is her punishment.”
Taylor turned her head slowly looking at Damien and then back to the woman. “Why?”
“Because this is the life they have chosen. This is what she wants. What she needs. What you read about.”
“But it reads so much better than it looks. She looks uncomfortable and ready to burst into tears.”
“She is.” His whisper tickled Taylor’s ear, sending a surge of juice between her legs.
The man on stage grabbed a bar that ran parallel with the woman’s body, spinning the platform, so that she was now sideways to the numerous eyes witnessing. He pushed her until she was in front of a table to the side. Reaching up he unclasped each arm. “Lean over the table.” He demanded. Instantly she did.
He stood opposite the table from her now. Her arms dangled down in front of him. He attached each arm into a cuff, tugging them, checking them. Then his fingers grazed over her naked back as he stepped behind her. He opened a drawer and pulled out a tube of lube laying it down next to her. “Face the crowd. Keep your eyes open. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Master.” Taylor remembered from reading that the Domme was usually called, Sir or Master. Both indicating authority.
Taylor watched as he quickly removed his pants and his cock hang free, fully erect. Proportioned correctly to the size of his body. He grabbed the lube squirting some into his hand, then he began to rub it along his shaft.
He took his hand and began to rub her there then pushed two fingers into her deep. Taylor couldn’t believe her eyes. She was starting to find it difficult to sit still. Her eyes were glued to the man. What he was doing. He moved his fingers in and out of her faster. She moaned, her eyes were growing heavy.
“You will not come, is that understood?” He said it in a threatening manner.
“Yes, Master.” Her breathing was heavy. Hell, just watching the scene was making it hard for Taylor, causing her to concentrate on slow deep breaths.
He lined his cock up to her entrance and rammed inside her all at once. His hands gripped her ass tight and he pulled back away from her flesh, then slapped the shit out of her ass.
Taylor jumped at the sound of the slap.
“Aargh!!!” She screamed out. Taylor could hear the force of his thrust. The liquid between them. She shook her head. Damn it! Why is this making me feel like this? She kept watching. Praying for this to end. She could feel an abundance of liquid between her legs.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” Again she didn’t turn to look at him, when Damien whispered to her. She stayed tuned into the scene in front of her. She wasn’t shamed of it either. Weird she thought.
The man stiffened, moaned and stilled inside her. He pulled out, leaned down, pulling his pants back up, zipping them but leaving the button open.
Damn, that was quick!
“You have pleased me. Will you ever disobey my orders again?” His hand caressed her hair. Almost like he was soothing her.
“No, Master.”
“Do you wish to come now?” His voice had softened into a sincere and apologetic tone.
“Yes, Master.” He smiled with her response.
He walked to the back of the table and pulled open a drawer. He pulled out a wooden paddle, holding it up and turning it for all of the audience to see.
Fuck no!!! Her mind screamed. Damien’s hand tightened its grip reminding her not to say a word. No interference what so ever.
The man walked beside her again, her body in front of him so that he was facing the crowd of onlookers. “Do you want me to spank you until you come?”
“Yes! Please, Master.” She’s begging him to spank her like that. Bull shit! Taylor heard Damien chuckle quietly, causing her to turn giving him a go to hell look.
“Don’t judge so quickly Sweet.” He sighed quietly. I can if I want to. So much for live porn. This is abuse. This shit isn’t supposed to happen other than in books. No way.
“Count them out loud for all to hear Sherry. Show them how easy it is for you to come like this. Show them how much you like it.” She nodded at his instruction.
Taylor’s eyes grew as he pulled back the paddle. Swiftly the paddle came down, POP! She moaned out loudly mixed with a cry.
“One! Thank You, Sir!”
POP! “Two! Thank You, Sir!”
POP! “Three! Thank You, Sir!”
POP! “Four! Thank You, Sir!”
POP! Her knees buckled out from underneath her as she screamed, “Five! Thank You, Sir!” He dropped the paddle catching her quickly. He caressed her back, her behind. When she was finally able to bear weight on her legs again, he removed the restraints, picking her up into his arms, he carried her
off the stage out the back.
The crowd began to applaud. “Be nice Sweet.” Taylor knew what he meant, so along with the crowd she applauded them. She didn’t understand why she was clapping. Even more so, she was more confused about why in the hell she felt so turned on. It was as if she could feel every swat from the paddle. Her insides had quivered. Intensely. She felt her womanly juices building into a pool between her legs.
She had wanted to look away but at the same time she had to watch. Just replaying what she had just viewed was making her want to see it again. But then the other part of her brain, the reality side, was telling her how disgusted she should feel.
Her mind told her that what she had watched was demeaning, cruel, harsh, and unforgiving to her. That the minute the man had released Sherry, she should have picked up the paddle and broke it over his pathetic head. But then the way he had looked at her was also puzzling.
A complete stranger but Taylor could see the love this man felt for Sherry. That he worshipped her. She wondered what she could have done that was so bad, that he would punish her in a way Sherry hadn’t liked.
A grunt brought her back to her reality. The reality that she had not only just watched a scene in a BDSM club, but she was here with Damien. A vampire. One in which was listening to her every thought right now.
Son of a ……. Her mind trailed off as she found the courage to look up at him. His eyes were beaming with delight.
“Fuck! You’re going to do that to me aren’t you?” As if fear now had a whole new meaning, she had just rewritten it in Webster’s. He didn’t answer her. “Where are we going now?”
“Back to the main room. Unless you’re ready to go back to our room?”
“No!” Her words were quick. Had she not just witnessed what she had, Taylor would have planted her feet and turned around almost on a dead run back to their room. But tonight, that was the last place she wanted to be with him. Her mind was on a continuous web of thoughts, unable to shut it down.
He had access to the torture devices there. At least out here, there were witnesses.