Serving Mr. Stevens, Part Two: Lover's Complaint -- An Erotic Romance (Part 2 of 5) (4 page)

I could have kept going through that closet for hours, but a glance at my watch told me it was time to call on Mr. Stevens. I’d seen how little patience he had for tardiness, and I didn’t want to make him wait. I quickly ran some eyeliner over my eyes and gave myself just a quick swipe of red lipstick before going over to the bedside table and ringing the service bell.

Within a few seconds, I heard a knock at my door. I crossed the room and opened it to find an older gentleman standing there, looking every bit like the classic English butler. He looked the part so exactly that I had to stifle a surprised laugh. “Hi, there,” I said, quickly recovering.

“Madam, you rang?” said the butler.

“Uh, yeah. I’d, um, I’d like to go to Mr. Steven’s office, please? He’s expecting me,” I said, not exactly sure how to address this man. I didn’t feel comfortable playing the part of the wealthy heiress, or whatever I was supposed to be. I’d never encountered a butler before, or even stepped foot inside a mansion, for that matter. Luckily, the butler didn’t seem to notice anything.

“Certainly, madam,” he said. “Follow me.” Without waiting another second, he began walking briskly down the narrow hallway. I hurried to catch up with him, following close behind. We walked to the end of the corridor, turned a corner, and went up a short flight of stairs. By the end of the trip, I was severely regretted my choice of footwear. Just when I was about to call “mercy” and take off my shoes to go barefoot, we arrived at an imposing wooden door flanked by huge iron torches. My mind flashed back to the suit of armor in Mr. Stevens’ office downtown. “He may not admit it, but this guy definitely has a flair for the medieval,” I muttered.

The butler knocked sharply on the door. “Sir, I announce Miss…” he trailed off and looked at me. “And, ah, what is your name, dear?” he asked me, looking embarrassed that he’d forgotten to ask before.

“It’s Candace,” I said with a laugh.

He nodded and smiled. “I announce Miss Candace," Bowing, he turned and walked away from me. “Good day, madam.”

That same moment, Mr. Stevens pulled open the door and stood there in the doorway, regarding me impassively. The smile dropped from my face, and I felt instantly under scrutiny. All the work I’d put into my appearance – all the fun I’d had admiring myself in the lingerie, those dresses – it all meant nothing if he didn’t like my look. I didn’t like feeling so dependent on this man for approval, but I couldn’t deny the way I felt. I blushed, feeling self-conscious in his presence. His stone-like face betrayed no hint of emotion, approval or anything else – still, I thought I saw the hint of a fiery spark deep in his eyes. He stepped back to allow me entrance into the room.

“Candace,” he said, by way of greeting.
“Sir,” I replied.

It was only when he’d closed the door behind me that he showed a trace of the lust we were both feeling. His eyes flashed hungrily now, taking in my dolled-up appearance and the low curves of my dress. As if of its own free will, his hand went up to his throat and loosened his tie. It was like he couldn’t look at me without having erotic thoughts. I loved the sensation of being desired so completely – and by such a strong, dominant man.

He stepped slowly towards me. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

As he stepped closer towards me, I instinctively took a step back. Even though I wanted him more than anything, the threatening manner of his walk triggered a reflexive fight-or-flight response in my body. I realized again how vulnerable I was in this castle, far from home. And I didn’t know what Mr. Stevens was capable of. The room had seemed warm when I’d first walked in, but now I wasn’t sure if it was just the adrenaline I was feeling. I could already sense that heady, intoxicating mix of fear and arousal coursing its way through my veins. And of course, he took full notice of my fear, which seemed to heighten his own lust even further.

“Do I scare you?” he asked, not taking his eyes off me as he continued his advance. I nodded truthfully, unable to speak at the moment. I had a lump in my throat, and my heart was beating fast within my chest. I took another step back, balancing unsteadily on the narrow heel of my shoe. I thought about how women’s clothing always seemed designed to trap the wearer, displaying her most enticing features while taking away her ability to defend herself. I don’t know where the thought came from. But in these shoes and this dress, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to run away from Mr. Stevens, even if I wanted to.

For his part, he was clearly enjoying this game of cat and mouse, taking his time with his slow, inevitable advance as he gradually backed me into a corner. I was reminded of our first meeting, in the locker room of my workplace. He’d taken me by surprise then, with a strong hand clamping around my mouth. Now I could see him approach, but the fear and anticipation weren’t diminished one bit. I stole a glance behind me; the wall was getting closer fast. There was nowhere to turn. I was trapped.

He thrust himself against me, pushing me hard against the rough stones and pushing my wrist up near my shoulder. I grunted in pain as the stones dug into the exposed skin of my back.

“Look at you, all done up like a tart in your stocking and heels. Arriving at my door with a butler, like you’re some kind of princess. You liked playing dress-up, didn’t you, Candace?” He ran his hand roughly up my stomach, between my breasts and up to my collarbone. “Just don’t forget your purpose here,” he growled. “This body is
mine
. You belong to
me
. Do you understand me, Candace?” There was a fury in his voice now – where it was coming from, I didn’t know. I nodded quickly, thrown off-balance by his sudden change in tone.

His eyes narrowed; he leaned his face in close to mine. “I didn’t hear you,” he said. His words carried the threat of violence, and I shrunk away from his face and shut my eyes. “I asked you if you understand me,” he repeated, his harsh whisper sending a chill into my ear.

“Yes, sir,” I gasped. I’d forgotten to address him properly. It was one of the first rules he’d given me, but in the heat of moments like this I always lost the ability to think straight. All I could focus on now was his hand on my body and the cold, sharp pain digging into my back – and all I wanted was to step away from the wall and have him take me in his arms. But he wasn’t ready to release me from the wall just yet.

“You forget yourself,” he continued, his lips mere inches from my ear. “It seems I need to teach you some humility.” My mind started racing, wondering what sort of humiliation he thought I deserved. I should have known that all those fancy outfits, the luxurious shower, the royal treatment would come with a price. I was quickly coming to learn that with Mr. Stevens, things were never quite as simple as they seemed. I tried to steel my mind for whatever lay in store.

“Get on your knees,” he said – as if I had any say in the matter. Before the words even registered, he was already forcing me down to the ground, his strong hand firmly coaxing me down by the shoulder. There was no carpet in this corner of the room, and I grimaced as I felt the hard stone of the ground against my knees. It was extremely uncomfortable, though not quite painful just yet. Still, I hoped I wouldn’t have to stay like this for long.

I looked up at his face, waiting for instruction. Almost simultaneously, a hard slap came across my cheek, causing me to yelp in surprise and pain. “I didn’t fucking ask you to look at me,” he snarled. “Keep your filthy eyes to yourself.” The severity of his words, combined with the slap that had come out of nowhere, was too much to handle all at once. Immediately, I felt my eyes welling up with hot tears. I could feel him looking down at me with contempt. “Brilliant,” he said. “You’re going to cry now? You should save your tears for later. We haven’t even gotten started.” Pursing my lips, I exhaled deeply through shaking lips and tried to blink back the tears that were in danger of escaping. It took great effort, but I was able to compose myself. I folded my hands in my lap and looked straight ahead.

He walked away from me towards his desk, and I heard him rummaging around in a drawer. I didn’t dare look up at him, so I had no idea what cruel surprise he had in store for me next. He came back a moment later, standing right in front of me, with my eyes at the level of his crotch. I could see something black and leather in his hand. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t make out what it was at first. Suddenly, I winced: it was a riding crop. I recognized it from some X-rated movie I’d seen once, but I’d never imagined I’d encounter one in person. In his other hand dangled a long coil of rope. I shuddered as I imagined the pain Mr. Stevens intended to inflict on me.

He stepped behind me and pushed my head forward, grabbing my wrists possessively and pulling them behind my back. He bound my arms with the rope quickly, with a quiet focus that suggested he’d done this many times before. In just a matter of seconds, my hands were tied firmly. I tested them, just to see if there was any wiggle room, but of course the rope was bound so tightly that I couldn’t really move my hands at all. I was bound and helpless, at his mercy – exactly where he wanted me.

He stepped in front of me again, his crotch a few inches from my face. “We’re going to play a game, Candace,” he said. “You’re going to undo my zipper, pull off my pants, and get me hard, using only your mouth. You’re then going to suck my cock. If at any time you lose your balance, if you complain, or if I decide you’re not performing to my satisfaction…”
Crack!
He whipped the riding crop against the floor, just next to my body. I jumped. He ran the leather tip of the riding crop over my shoulder and across my cheek.

“Trust me,” he said, “this hurts.”

Without waiting for further instruction, I did as he had told me, gripping the zipper of his slacks with my teeth and slowly pulling it down. It was hard to get a good grip on it, and my off-balance fumbling was causing my knees to rub painfully against the stone floor. I winced, but remembered his command not to say anything. “Good girl,” he cooed, as the zipper came down. “Now for my belt.”

I took the brown leather of his belt in my mouth, pulling it out of the loops of his waistline. The buckle was more challenging. I maneuvered back and forth, struggling and straining to undo it. “Come on,” he said, equal parts threatening and encouraging. “Hurry up.” Finally, the belt came loose with a satisfying snap. I grabbed the fabric in my teeth and pulled down his slacks, not even attempting to undo the button of his fly. He was wearing a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs that left very little to the imagination; the sight of the growing bulge there sent a chill of excitement through my system. I was degraded, in pain – and unbelievably turned on.

I took the elastic of his shorts in my teeth with newfound enthusiasm, impatiently trying to tear them off him as fast as possible. They came down without much resistance, freeing his delicious cock for me to service. He stepped out of his pants and kicked off his shoes and socks, giving me a full view of his naked, muscular thighs and his glorious cock. He was half-flaccid still, not fully erect – yet. I took him eagerly into my mouth, craning my head to come at him from below.

He grunted with pleasure as my warm lips enveloped him, reaching down to rub a hand across the back of my neck. I think the sensation was as gratifying for me as it was for him. I loved having him in my mouth; I loved knowing the satisfaction I was giving him. It gave me a kind of power, too: even though I was the one on my knees, my hands bound behind my back, I was the one manipulating the pleasure centers in his brain. In a strange way, I was the one in control. But I wasn’t too focused on this paradox at the moment. I was too busy sucking and licking the shaft of his cock, enjoying the way it felt to have him growing harder and harder in my mouth.

As he grew fully erect, he began thrusting his hips gently as I sucked him, causing my lips to travel further and further down his shaft with each repetition. It made it seem as though he got bigger and thicker with each passing second. I popped him out of my mouth and knelt down to focus on his balls. I licked the underside of his shaft and then took each testicle lightly into my mouth, one at a time. He moaned as I did this, his knees caving slightly with the intensity of the sensation. I moved my lips back up to the head of his cock, rubbing my tongue all around it in small circles as I focused my attention there.

He smacked my ass lightly with the riding crop, not as punishment, but just because he knew it would turn me on – and it did, immeasurably. I loved, loved, loved sucking his cock. My nipples were standing up sharply under the cups of my bustier, and I suddenly realized I’d been rubbing my thighs together in pleasure in order to stimulate myself there. I needed him inside me, and soon. Luckily for me, he had a similar idea.