Seduced in the Dark (32 page)

His thigh pressed against the table near the
top of my head as he worked his hands lower, from my breasts, to my
ribs, to my surprisingly sore hips. He rubbed softly, and I
couldn’t help but moan and get lost in the surety of his hands, and
in the clean, masculine smell emanating from his body, which
inevitably leaned toward me. I thought about Felipe. I thought
about the way he’d pressed his cock against my lips, the way I’d so
readily accepted him when I thought he had been Caleb.

Unwittingly, I undulated beneath Caleb’s
hands, my body telling him what I couldn’t possibly say out loud. I
needed him to make me come. He sighed audibly, and I knew he wanted
me as badly as I wanted him.

I fought off the memory of what he’d told me
after I’d offered him not only my body, but my heart.
“
You thought what? You thought offering me a little pussy
was going to make some kind of a difference?”
I recoiled at the
memory and tears stung behind my eyes. I was thankful for the
blindfold. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted him touching me
anymore, but what choice did I have? Felipe’s options seemed far
too extreme.

It occurred to me then, the one choice that
was mine to make, was not to let him hurt me anymore, not where it
mattered. My heart sank heavily in my chest for reasons I didn’t
want to acknowledge…I
had
thought my confession should make
some kind of a difference.

I was lost in my self-pitying thoughts when
he pulled me back into reality by running his finger along the seam
of my inflamed sex. I jerked in my bonds.

“Sensitive here too?” he said darkly, and
began his practiced assault on my clit. I groaned sadly in response
and nodded. “Aww, poor Kitten. Would you like me to let you come
now?” Tears leaked from my eyes and were immediately absorbed by
the blindfold. I nodded. His voice had taken on a sinister edge, he
was enjoying this, and I was in a strange sort of misery. He
shifted his position, coming around to my right as he stroked me at
an easier angle.

“I want to hear you beg me,” he said and
pulled the gag from my mouth. I rotated my jaw, trying to get it to
feel normal again and finding it difficult. “Beg me,” he commanded.
My heart raced at his steady touch, the tingling heat of impending
orgasm spread through my body. If he stopped me this time, I would
die. I was sure of it.

“I’m…I’m begging you,” I whispered. My voice
was alien to my ears as I failed to keep my emotions out of my
voice.

“
I did think it was really cute when you
said you loved me.”

The orgasm tore through me with a violence I
don’t think even Caleb was expecting. I screamed at the top of my
lungs and my body arched as much as it could in its restraints.
Every part of me tingled, and throbbed, and burned with release. My
thighs quivered, and my heart beat savagely in my chest, ears, and
clit.

It washed over me in waves: my old life,
meeting Caleb, my botched escape, Caleb’s kindness that first night
he held me, his smile, his hands, his smell, his kiss, the
spankings, the torture, my declaration of love, his reaction…his
reaction…his cruel, fucking reaction. When the best and worst of it
subsided my hips hit the table with a wet thud and I lie there
crying, as any number of emotions ran wild in my body while the
aftermath settled.

“Wow,” he whispered.

I was so tired. I hadn’t slept all night.
Caleb was quiet and I was glad for it. I had nothing to say to him.
Though, I thoroughly hoped he was done torturing me for a while and
would allow me to finally get some sleep – alone.

I started to drift away while he went about
un-strapping my thighs and legs. It was an odd thing to feel so
drowsy and satiated, while at the same time, feeling jittery and
anxious over being released. His warm palms touched my ribs and my
drowsiness disappeared, but my anxiety mounted.

“How are your ribs feeling?” he asked, with
a degree of thoughtfulness.

“A little sore,” I said, so softly, I almost
doubted he heard.

“Is it bad?” He seemed concerned.

I hated when he was like this. I would
prefer him to always be a cold-blooded bastard. At least then, I
could forgive him for the things he did. Instead, he showed me
bursts of his humanity. It was worse - knowing he knew the
difference between kindness and cruelty and chose the baser of the
two. I shook my head.

He undid the cuffs on my wrists and I at
once tried to sit up. Not really as a show of defiance. It just
seemed like the natural thing to do. My hips were agonizingly stiff
and sore. It took Caleb’s awkward help to lift my legs out of the
stirrups. After too many hours apart, I could hardly close
them.

I sat for a moment, my legs dangling off the
table and my hands over my breasts. I hoped he wouldn’t remove the
blindfold and I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. He stood in
front of me. Our bodies weren’t touching, but I felt him
everywhere. Then the warmth of his fingers smoothed against my
cheek, and something in my chest began to burn. Slowly, he pulled
the blindfold away and I rubbed my puffy eyes as I adjusted to the
soft light.

He looked gorgeous, as usual, though his
customary smile was not present, only a look of seriousness. It
occurred to me I must look like garbage, with my ratted hair, and
puffy face. Meanwhile, Caleb stood in front of me – sexy as
hell.

I couldn’t look him in the face. I rarely
ever could. I focused on his lightweight button-up shirt, khaki
pants, and casual shoes. I focused on his large hands as they
reached up and rubbed my thighs. I let out a startled gasp he
didn’t acknowledge.

“Are you hungry?” he asked ominously. I
nodded, looking down into my lap. He slapped my thigh loudly and I
had to fight every impulse to push him away. Heat crept up into my
face, but I maintained my composure.

“Yes, Master,” I said, through clenched
teeth. “I’m hungry.”

“Good,” he said, no humor in his voice. “You
can get down on your knees and eat my cock.”

I stared at him incredulously for a moment,
waiting for him to say something further – though what I expected
him to say, I didn’t know. Strangely, the longer I looked at him,
the more I became aware I was doing so without his permission. I
also felt, as I often did, he could read my mind. I took a deep
breath and looked away quickly, in the hopes he had not read too
much. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his hands slowly reaching
for his belt. A sense of impending doom spurred me into action and
I reflexively placed my right hand over his.

“You aren’t going to whip me, are you?” I
didn’t look up. My fingers trembled. If he wasn’t already, then I
probably planted the idea in his mind.
Stupid, stupid,
stupid.

“Would you like me to?” he asked. I shook my
head emphatically: No, I did not. “Then get your hands off of me. I
didn’t give you permission to touch me.” I retracted my hands and
waited for him to speak. “Good. Now get down on your knees and put
your hands in your lap. You’re not allowed to touch me.”

I swallowed hard and fortified myself to do
as I was told. Avoiding his gaze, I attempted to lower myself from
the table onto my shaky legs. My legs gave out, but Caleb reached
out to steady me. I almost grabbed hold of him to stop myself from
falling, but I managed to prevent the reflex and hung in his arms
like a rag doll as he lowered me onto my knees.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He stood. “You know what, Kitten?” he said,
“I think I
will
whip you. Ask me what for.”

My eyes were already misted over with fresh
tears when I looked up at him. “Why?”

He smiled and shook his head, just before he
grabbed the back of my head and pulled my hair hard enough to let
me know I was in trouble. “How about for talking when you weren’t
asked to speak, touching me as if you have the right, looking at me
without being told, and most importantly, for consistently
addressing me improperly.” He gripped my hair tight. I whined
sharply behind my closed lips and my eyes reflexively shut. “Now,
you tell me, Kitten, do you deserve to be punished?”

There could not possibly be any good answer
to his question. Even silence would be thought of as another
infraction. My mind raced to find a way out of the situation, but I
knew the damage had been done.

I cried miserably, but I opened my mouth and
replied, “If it’s what you want, Master, then, yes.” I kept my eyes
closed, mindful not to look at him unbidden, and he released my
hair.

“That’s a good answer, Kitten. Later, I’ll
show you exactly what I want. In the meantime, show me how much you
want to make me happy.”

Chapter
Seventeen

He made me walk – with traces of his semen
on my chin and neck, naked, sobbing, and on shaky legs, up the
steps of the dungeon and out into the civilized surroundings of the
mansion above. I hesitated strongly at the top of the steps when I
heard the unmistakable murmur of people in conversation. Caleb
pressed his hand firmly against the curve of my bottom and urged me
forward, but I only leaned back and tried to step down. Propping me
up with one hand, he delivered a powerful, ringing slap, across the
delicate flesh of my ass and I couldn’t help but cry out loudly and
lurch through the door. Six sets of eyes turned toward me at once.
They were a mixture of surprise and amusement.

The strong desire to run surged through me,
but Caleb held my hair cruelly in his grasp, forcing me to kneel at
his feet, where I instantly grabbed hold of his pant leg and
hid.

“Well, this entire day just became more
interesting,” said an unfamiliar voice, with a southern drawl. His
comment was met with resounding laughter.

“I apologize,” said Caleb. “She’s not quite
house broken yet.”

I was too scared to be outraged. Above my
head, sitting at a table, were a group of men and women. They
didn’t seem to have a problem with a man dragging in a naked, and
crying woman. I couldn’t imagine a more horrifying scenario.

When the laughter subsided, a familiar voice
spoke. “Will you both be having breakfast with us?” It was Felipe –
there was no mistaking the strong, assured inflection of his voice,
and of course, there was the Spanish accent. My heart skipped a
beat. What would happen if he told Caleb about last night? Had he
told Caleb about last night? What if it was a test – and
I
was supposed to tell him?

“No, not this morning – but perhaps for
dinner. I need time to make her suitable.” He finally let my hair
loose. I made no attempt to move; cowered against his legs I felt
oddly protected.

“Of course,” said Felipe, “Celia will help
you.”

Caleb made me travel the rest of the way
upstairs on my hands and knees, while the others looked on and
remarked on how obvious it was I was new, and how fun it would be
to get a hold of my sexy ass.

Heat crawled all across my body but I kept
my head down and focused only on getting as far away from this
emerging situation as possible. Somewhere in the back of my mind I
also worried about what was going to happen to me next. I realized
my deepest hope was for Caleb to take me upstairs, bathe me, feed
me, and hold me as he filled my ears with reassurances. I wanted
him to remind me he would never let anyone hurt me, but as he
forced me past the door to my room, my hopes seemed more and more
unlikely.

A little further down, we rounded a corner
and my knees were finally given respite as they met with a small,
carpeted alcove. Caleb stepped in front of me and opened the large
wooden door. I hesitated for only a moment, not knowing why, but
then crawled across the threshold. The room was not what I
expected. If ever I imagined a room for Caleb to call his own, it
would have been this one. It seemed inundated with his ominous
taste.

The carpet was a deep burgundy. It was so
dark I almost mistook it for black. The bed sat high, covered in
the blackest of spreads, turned down to reveal crimson silk sheets
and pillows. The headboard was black as well, a large, tall, square
thing. It gave the bed an obviously masculine tone, and attached to
its center, was two thick metal loops. The door shut behind me and
the room was drenched in darkness. I swallowed hard.

A small clicking sound and the light of a
bedside lamp scarcely lit the room. I dared not make a sound or
movement, though the urge to turn and look at Caleb was intense. My
eyes stared forward, catching sight of a leather-clad bench of
sorts. There was no television, no stereo, and no phone, but there
were books. I noticed them in a corner bookcase, their spines
showing they’d been thoroughly read and enjoyed. I suddenly ached
to know their titles. I wondered what he read, what made him happy.
There was also an odd piece of furniture standing in front of the
stark curtains. I knew from a glance I was best left unaware of its
purpose. It formed the shape of a large X and at the top of each
corner rest the same metal loops as the headboard. I shuddered in
spite of myself.

“You embarrassed me down there.” My entire
body tensed at the sound of his angry voice.

“I’m sorry, Master,” I whispered, low. I
struggled desperately to stay perfectly still. I treated him as the
sort of predator to only attack moving prey. I heard the distinct
sound of a buckle being undone and the swish of a belt being pulled
from its belt loops. I started to shake.

“You’re going to learn what is expected of
you, Pet.”

Everything in my body screamed for me to
run, but somewhere inside my head a small voice whispered there was
no escape, only obedience.
Only obedience will make him
happy
. I nodded absently.

He didn’t say anything further. He simply
pressed my forehead to the ground and laid his belt down across my
backside in quick succession.