The Compound (2 page)

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Authors: Claire Thompson

BOOK: The Compound
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S
he is on his bed, a large bed with soft sheets. He looms over her, his body hard and strong as he eases his huge cock inside her. “What are you?”

“The place where your cock goes, Sir.”

“I own you.”


Yesssss…”

She flicked the vibrator to high and slid it inside herself. The vibrations whirred against her engorged clit, the phallus throbbing inside her. As his hard cock pummeled her to orgasm, Alexis tried to see the man’s face in her fantasy, but there was only shadow, and then even that slipped away.

With a sigh, she turned off the toy and eased it from her pussy, dropping it onto the small towel by her bed so she’d remember to wash it in the morning. She closed her eyes and sighed, waiting for sleep to claim her.

But instead of slipping into dreams, her conversation with Arthur kept coming back to her.
The Compound
. It sounded sexy and a little dangerous.

Without realizing what she was doing, Alexis found her fingers had slipped back between her legs, sliding into the wetness still left from the lubricant and her own lust. She rubbed herself, imagining her breasts pressed against rough stone as a whip struck her again and again. Her wrists were cuffed into manacles set into the stone, her legs stretched wide and secured at the ankle.

The man drops his whip at last and presses his hard body against her flayed, stinging back. She feels his hands spreading her ass, and then the press of his impossibly hard cock against her nether entrance. He eases himself inside her, moving slowly, but still she feels as if she’s being split in two by his girth. His fingers dig into her hips as he begins to thrust in and out of her ass. “Someday,” he murmurs, his lips touching her ear, “I will fuck your cunt. When you prove yourself worthy, when you submit without reservation, when you give of yourself completely.”

Alexis moaned aloud, arching her hips, her fingers a flurry as she brought herself to a second orgasm, more powerful than the first. She
lay still, a light sweat cooling on her skin, until the rapid tapping of her heart slowly subsided.

She heard a pinging sound on her
iPhone and reached for it from the nightstand beside her bed. She had an email from Arthur. The subject read:
The Compound.
The body of the email consisted of an email address:
[email protected]
, along with a note from Arthur that she’d been cleared as a possible applicant.
Just tell them the truth,
he’d written,
about what you’re looking for, and that you’d like more information about the program offered through The Compound. Don’t wuss out, Alexis. This is your chance. Take it. Good luck! Arthur.

Before she could lose her resolve, Alexis copied the email address and pasted it into a new email.

Dear Mistress Miriam,

My name is Alexis Stewart…

~*~

It had been two weeks since she first began her email correspondence with Mistress Miriam. The initial exchange had been conversational in tone, with Alexis being as honest as she could in expressing her needs, experience and goals. She’d been surprised but pleased to learn there was no cost to attend the program.

Alexis had completed a lengthy questionnaire about her experience in the scene, likes, dislikes, goals, hard limits, etc. She’d undergone a complete physical and blood work to prove she was in good health and disease-free. She was impressed when Mistress Miriam told her all staff members at The Compound were held to the same high standards. Alexis had been thrilled when Mistress Miriam told her she appeared to be a good candidate for The Compound. She put in for and was approved for a full month’s vacation time at work.

Arthur drove her the two hours from the city. As he pulled up in front of the large main building of what appeared to have once been a horse farm, Alexis experienced the same clutch of excitement and fear as when she’d been shipped off to sleep away camp as a child. Arthur gave her a quick farewell kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, kiddo.”

There was still the face-to-face interview to undergo before she was formally accepted into the program. “If by some chance we decide you aren’t right for the program,” Mistress Miriam had assured her in her last email, “we have a driver who can give you a lift back to the city. No need to make your ride wait.”

Alexis grabbed her bag and went up to the large front door. Before she could even lift the heavy brass knocker, the door was opened by a tall young man dressed in only a black thong, a thick leather collar secured at his throat by a padlock. He didn’t speak, but only nodded toward her as he reached down to take her suitcase. He led her into a brightly lit office space with large bay windows that looked out over a huge swimming pool and beautiful flower gardens.

An imposing woman in her late thirties stood as they entered, moving from behind her desk to take Alexis’s hand in hers. “Welcome, Alexis. I’m Mistress Miriam.” Her voice fit her perfectly, low and smooth, with just the hint of a British accent. She was a striking woman, with lustrous dark hair falling in waves to her shoulders and eyes a vivid blue. She wore a tailored red silk jacket that revealed a hint of bare nipple beneath, over red leather pants that looked soft as butter. She radiated confidence and power. She exuded raw sexuality, and for a nearly irresistible second, Alexis had the impulse to lean forward and kiss those full, sensuous lips.

“You may wait outside, Josh,” Mistress Miriam said, turning her attention for a moment to the male slave. He nodded and stepped out, closing the door silently behind him.

Mistress Miriam leaned against the edge of the desk and regarded Alexis with a cool gaze. Without any preamble, she said simply, “Take off your clothes, everything except panties.”

Though she’d been expecting this, or something like it,
Alexis’s mouth went suddenly dry. Under Mistress Miriam’s cool gaze, she stood and reached for the buttons of her blouse, praying her hands wouldn’t shake. Her eyes flicked toward a black leather flogger and a long, thin rattan cane that rested on the desk beside Mistress Miriam. Alexis let the blouse fall from her shoulders as she kicked off her sandals. She unbuckled her belt, opened her pants and slid them down her legs. Finally, taking a breath, she reached back and undid the clasps to her bra.

“Fold your things and place them on the desk,” Mistress Miriam instructed. “Then stand at attention, hands behind your head.” Alexis reached for her things, placing them on the desk as instructed. Lifting her arms, she locked her fingers behind her head and waited, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

“Stand up straight,” Mistress Miriam snapped. “Breasts out.”

Alexis put her shoulders back, thrusting her size C breasts forward, willing away the heat that wanted to climb into her face. She wasn’t shy about her body, but something about Mistress Miriam’s piercing gaze made her want to cover herself. She forced herself to resist the impulse.

Mistress Miriam stood, moving to stand directly in front of Alexis. “You stated on the questionnaire that you believe you are submissive, but you’ve had trouble reaching the inner core of that submission. In your essay you questioned if you might only be sexually masochistic, and not really capable of true submission. Do I have that correct, Alexis?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Are you obedient?”

In the right circumstances
, Alexis thought.
With the right man
. Glancing at the gorgeous Mistress Miriam, she suddenly wondered—with the right woman? Aloud she replied, “Yes, Mistress.”

Mistress Miriam stepped back. She cupped
Alexis’s left breast, lifting it and letting it fall. She pinched both Alexis’s nipples with her sharp, blood red nails. Alexis pressed her lips together to keep from crying out, her eyes on Mistress Miriam’s face, her hands locked obediently behind her head. When Mistress Miriam finally let go, Alexis’s nipples were erect and throbbing.

Mistress Miriam put a hand over
Alexis’s crotch, and Alexis almost stepped back, embarrassed to be touched so intimately by another woman, especially when she knew her panties were damp from the exchange between them so far. She stopped herself in time, determined to prove she was obedient, though she couldn’t stop her gasp when Mistress Miriam slipped a finger into her panties.

“If we accept you, this will have to go.” Mistress Miriam tugged lightly at
Alexis’s pubic hair. “We have a specialist in full body waxing. All our trainees must be smooth and completely accessible at all times. Is that a problem?”

“No, Mistress,” Alexis replied.

Mistress Miriam returned to the desk, though she didn’t sit down. “Which do you prefer, the flogger or the cane?”

“The flogger,” Alexis said immediately. It was no contest—she hated to be caned. It held none of the sweet,
thuddy sensuousness of a flogging. It just plain fucking hurt.

“Ah. Then we’ll use the cane.” One side of Mistress Miriam’s mouth lifted in a cruel smile.

If she had said the cane, would Mistress Miriam have picked the flogger? Probably. Though then again, probably not. Somehow Alexis sensed she would have known she was lying. How had Mistress Miriam managed to hone in on the one thing Alexis had a hard time with? Was it some kind of sadist’s sixth sense? She could take a single tail, she could even handle a bull whip. But the cane—with its stingy bite, and that scary whooshing sound just before it struck the skin—sent a chill down her back just thinking about it.

You got this far,
she admonished herself.
Don’t screw it up now.

“Face the chair, bend over and grab the arms.
Legs wide, ass out. Oh, and take off those panties.”

Alexis pulled her panties down and stepped out of them, adding them to the folded pile of her clothing. Taking a breath, she turned toward the chair. She bent forward and gripped the smooth wooden arms, steadying herself as she spread her legs. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, but she was determined. She could do this. She
would
do this.

She could hear Mistress Miriam moving behind her. When she felt the light tap of the cane against her ass, she stiffened, but managed to remain still. By turning her head, she could just see Mistress Miriam out of the corner of her eye, standing back and to the side.

“Eyes straight ahead,” Mistress Miriam snapped, punctuating her words with the first real strike of the cane. Alexis gasped in pain, gripping the chair arms hard as she struggled to maintain her composure. Several more hard whacks followed in quick succession, each one landing just below the last. As the cane moved lower, covering the fleshier part of Alexis’s ass, she found herself better able to tolerate the stinging blows.

Until the one that struck just where her ass met her thighs. It was harder than the others, preceded by that sudden, terrifying
whoosh
and then a searing, biting flash of pain that pushed a cry from Alexis’s lips.

She lifted her head, her eyes momentarily blinded by tears.
Stop fighting it. Flow with the pain. Become one with it.
She could almost hear Arthur admonishing her, and she tried to do just that, though she’d never really understood the concept, not on a gut level. Another blow caught her on the hip and she gritted her teeth, not sure she could take much more of this.

She looked out the window, thinking maybe she could distract herself enough with the view to at least get through this caning without making a fool of herself by screaming, or worse, turning around and grabbing the fucking thing from Mistress Miriam’s hands and breaking it clean in two.

And then she saw him.

The pool had been empty when she’d first entered the office, but now someone was swimming in it— muscular back and powerful shoulders moving through the water and then a head lifting, shaking the water from long auburn hair that glittered like dark, wet gold in the sunlight.

The man moved to the opposite side of the pool and lifted his arms on either side, leaning back against the edge of the pool, revealing his smooth, bronzed chest. His jaw was square, his nose prominent.

He seemed to be staring directly at her.

The cane cut her ass again, and again, but somehow, with her eyes on the handsomest man she’d ever seen in her life, Alexis found herself able to tolerate the blows. She began to breathe more deeply, her tightly-clenched muscles easing as she imagined that the man could see her, even though she knew he probably could not, being out in the sun as he was.

Still, he kept his gaze toward the window, and she kept her gaze on him, drawing strength and courage from his handsome visage, her cunt moistening as she drank in the masculine curves of his body. Would he be her trainer?

Please, please, please, let him be my trainer.

Suddenly Alexis felt Mistress Miriam’s cool fingers tracing the welts she had raised along
Alexis’s ass and thighs. When the hand slid between her legs, Alexis gasped, but maintained her position. She looked again at the Greek god still leaning back against the side of the pool, and imagined it was his hand touching her pussy, probing her entrance, sliding over her clit.

When Mistress Miriam began to rub and tease her, Alexis kept her focus on the man in the pool. The caning, though it had hurt like hell, had aroused Alexis, as all erotic pain did. That arousal, along with the vision of the man in the pool, and the realization that a gorgeous, dominant woman was touching her, all combined to make Alexis tremble and moan, teetering suddenly on the edge of an orgasm.

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