The Kinky Side Scrooge of Scrooge (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Alec decided to go home immediately. He was in no mood to stick around another minute at the club. There, the silent house greeted him, making his dreariness feel even stronger, so he headed to his private gym. Practicing with his whip always relaxed him and tonight he needed it--a lot.

He took off his shoes, socks and shirt and prepared a big, white sheet of paper that he usually used in his practices and grabbed his favorite bullwhip.

After the first few strikes, he started to feel better, but he continued until there was not a piece of the paper hanging and his body was covered in sweat.

He put the whip away and headed to the shower in the bathroom inside the dungeon, dropping his pants and underwear on his way. Though he was feeling better, he still felt restless, angry.

He dreaded the fact that Hannah had managed to come between him and James, a man he considered more than family, a man that had been his unconditional friend ever since they met in high school.

He took a long, cold shower, letting the icy droplets hit his body until he felt numb. He dried himself and with no desire to go to his bedroom he jumped in the dungeon's bed and closed his eyes, trying to shut the world out.

'Alec woke up startled and sat on the bed. Someone had called his name.

"Alec, son," he turned his face and he saw his father standing next to the bed, as a blurry vision.

"Dad?" his tone revealed his confusion and his disbelief. His father had been dead for ten years now.

"Yes, Alec," the spectrum confirmed, "Son, what are you doing with your life? You're pushing everybody away from you, can't you see that?"

"I'm not pushing anyone away. They leave of their own free will," he protested, rubbing his eyes, sure he was having a weird dream, but feeling it was too damn real.

"You don’t let them in your heart, and that's why they leave," his father assured, looking at him with regret, "Am I the one responsible for this? For the way you are?"

"Of course not. If someone's responsible, it's not you."

"Oh, but I believe I am. I always blamed your mother for leaving me, for not trying to keep our family together, but that wasn’t true."

"How can you say that? She was the one who left," Alec protested.

"But I was the one absent. Don’t you remember how many times I failed you? How many times I was supposed to be there for you, and I wasn’t?"

"I don’t remember any of that."

"But you must. Deep within, you're a good man, Alec, much better than me. You just need to remember how to love, how to believe in people and let them come closer to you," his father begged him.

Alec shook his head in denial, "You're looking at me through the eyes of a father."

"Son, just open your mind and your heart, and you'll see things clearer. You'll be visited by three spirits: the Spirit of the Past, the Spirit of the Present and the Spirit of the Future. Receive them willingly and learn from what they'll show you," his father warned him.

"You have to be kidding me, Dad!" he snorted.

"Remember, open your heart and mind, Son," his father said before he vanished into thin air.

Starting to think he was losing his mind, Alec lay back in bed, and closed his eyes for a second.

The sound of a whip cracking in the air made him open his eyes immediately, and sit up in bed again.

At the footboard of the bed, stood a huge old man, dressed in black leather, with gray hair, and holding a bullwhip in his hand. His face was marked with the signs of a well-lived life, his blue eyes sparkled with so much life that it hurt to look at them.

"You have to be kidding me!" Alec said with a dry laugh.

The man cracked the whip, this time hitting him hard on his thigh with it. "Did that felt as if I'm kidding, newbie?"

The man's hoarse voice reminded him of the first Dom he had ever met, when he was eighteen and exploring the trails that were leading him into BDSM. He used to call him newbie, too.

"No." And it didn’t. He could feel the sting of the strike in his thigh and he looked at the man, intrigued.

"Who are you?"

"I thought they had sent your father to explain things to you," he ranted.

"So you're one of the so-called Spirits?" Alec shook his head. It was definite; he had lost his mind.

"Be more respectful newbie. I'm the Spirit of the Past, and I'm here to take you to your past."

"Oh, come on!"

The man walked around the bed and pulled him roughly by his elbow. "Let's go, I don’t have all night."

Alec felt as if his body was being dragged through a vortex, and all of a sudden, he was floating over a football field. He recognized the scene; it had been one of the most important football games he had when he was ten. He was playing on the field, but his attention was on the public, looking for his father, but he still wasn’t there.

"Do you remember that game?" the old man asked him.

"Yes, I do," he answered in a low voice.

"He never showed up. Your mother was there for you, always, but you wanted your father to see you winning that game."

Alec saw his friends carrying him after the winning point. His mother was standing there, and when his friends let him down, he ran to her open arms.

He could even hear her. "I'm sorry sweetheart." After that, she took him for pizza and ice cream with his best friend at the time.

"How many times did your father pull that one on you? How many times did he pull that one on your mother?" the old man asked, and Alec had to admit it had been too many. Her mother had started to lose her joy, her smile was a rare thing when she finally gave up and admitted her defeat; his father wasn’t going to change.

The old man dragged him to another scene, one he would rather not see again, that was engraved by fire in his mind--the day his mother had left. He was 16 years old.

His mother was in the living room with his father arguing once more, and he was hiding behind the kitchen door.

"I can't stand this anymore. I'm supposed to be married to you and I feel worse than a widow. You're never there for me, we no longer live as a couple," his mother was complaining.

"I'm working to provide you with all the fancy things you obviously appreciate," he retorted.

"I would much rather feel that I still have a husband, John…"

"I'm giving you all that I can," he replied in a very cold tone.

"Well, it's not enough, it never has been, but I just can't take it anymore." He could hear the defeat in her mother's voice and see the tears running down her cheeks.

"Well you're free to go find more elsewhere." The cold words of his father made his mother gasp in pain, and with a final look at her husband, she left the room. The next morning she had left the house forever. She had tried to make Alec understand her reasons, but he had given his back on her. He had refused to see or talk to her ever since, despite the number of times she had tried. After a few years she had stopped trying and he supposedly felt relieved, but it seemed to reinforce his idea she really didn’t love him. For him, she hadn’t loved him enough to stay with him.

He could see now, he had acted like a hurtful, selfish teenager.

"Your mother still thinks of you. She stopped trying to talk to you, but she seeks for any little news she can get on you and she goes to your office once in a while and waits to see you leave." The old man's voice felt like a stab to his heart. That couldn’t be true. He was sure she had forgotten she had a son a long time ago. The same way he had forgotten he had a mother.

Once more, the old man dragged him to another scene--the day he met James. James was the new kid at school and his size and strength made the school's bullies see him as a threat to their kingdom of terror.

Alec was a loner, having the same built as James, people feared to go near him.

That day, the bullies had cornered James. It was an unfair match, 6 to 1, and for a moment, Alec had considered ignoring the scene and just going home, j but he couldn’t. He joined James, and although they didn’t win that fight, it made them inseparable friends.

"That man you see there would give his life for you, without blinking, and you're pushing him away from you, just because you refuse to believe he’s really found the woman for him. She isn’t what you think she is. Your fear of losing James over her has made you turn that tiny possibility into a certainty."

Once more, the old man dragged him to another scene, one he had feared ever since this damn nightmare had started--the night he had discovered Rose in bed with the engineer in charge of one of his ongoing constructions.

She wanted more than she thought he could give her, more money, more luxury, and more status. She had been his first love, his first submissive and he had believed she felt the same. But she only saw him as a way out of her sad life in the low-class neighborhoods where she was born. She wasn’t even really into BDSM, which  had been a lie, too.

"Remember her?" the old man asked, in a mocking tone.

Alec frowned. "How could I forget?" he remembered the yelling, the accusations, the truths ventilated and how insecure he had felt for a while after that. He had also been furious with himself for not being able to see the truth sooner.

"Well, you should have, because she was an irrelevant episode in your life that you allowed to become the center of it, the yardstick by which you measure every woman who comes into your life. You keep them all at a safe distance from you, because you think they'll all turn out to be another Rose."

"How can you say she was irrelevant? I…"

"Before you finish that sentence, think about it a little. Was your heart really hurt when she left? Or just your pride? Did you or did you not hold on to that episode to avoid getting too close to a woman, and being abandoned like your mother abandoned you?"

Enraged, Alec looked at the old man, clasping his hands in tight fists. But the words were out and he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Had he really loved her? He looked at the scene once more, the way they were fighting, and he had to admit he didn’t seem to have a broken heart, just a bruised pride.

"Another thing you should have in mind: Hannah is not Rose. They couldn’t be more different," the old man added, in a scolding tone.

Alec was hearing the old man's voice, but his mind was still swirling with doubts, refusing to take these visions as something real and not just products of his mind, in a vain wish to change things.

The old man made him fall over the bed in the dungeon.

"Not all people have the chance to get another perspective on their lives. Don’t waste yours." His words sounded as a warning. "The Spirit of the Present will be visiting you soon." And those were his last words before disappearing in thin air.

Alec opened his eyes to the sound of the alarm clock on his cell phone, somewhere in the dungeon.

He got up in bed and immediately remembered the dream, because it had to be a dream. He looked at his thigh and a red welt marked the tanned skin. He looked at it for a few seconds before his rational mind came up with an explanation; he’d surely hit himself with the whip while he had been practicing. Yes, that was what had happened.

Despite that, he was unable to get the damn dream out of his mind.

Chapter Nine

Katherine spent the whole week on tenterhooks. Her body was eager to go back to the club and finally experience all he had promised her, but her mind was still a bit upset with the way the night had ended the last time.

But, this time her body overpowered her mind, and on Saturday evening, she was there at the club's door.

The guard, John, opened the door for her with a welcoming smile, walking her to the coat room before leading her to the main room.

"You can find Sir Alec near the bar, Miss Katherine," he informed her, leaving her at the door. She took a look at the crowded room, and taking a deep breath, she entered, walking to where John had shown her.

Alec was there, leaning on the bar, looking at the door. He spotted her immediately, but didn’t move a muscle.

She slowly walked up to him, stopping a few feet from him.

"Good evening, girl." He greeted her with an amused smile.

"Good evening," she answered, twisting her hands, one on the other. She had no idea how he expected her to act.

"Ready for me?" he asked with a devious smile.

"I have no idea what are you going to do to me, so it's a bit hard to get ready for that, wouldn’t you say?" she asked, sarcastically.

The deviousness of his smile became more obvious, but he didn’t utter a word. He closed the distance between them and cradling her face, he claimed her lips with a deep kiss that left her breathless.

Taking her by the hand, he guided to the same corridor he had taken her the week before, this time only stopping when they reached a door, and he opened it for her.

The room was decorated in shades of deep red
.
Its main feature was the huge canopy bed, and to complete it, there were a cross and a couple of different benches scattered around the room.

"Do you like it?" he asked, walking in and stopping behind her. His hands slid to her chest cupping her breasts with both his hands.

"Yes, it's amazing," she answered, not sure she was referring to the room or to what she felt each time he laid his hands on her.

He laid a few kisses and nibbles on her ear and neck, before he released her and faced her.

"Good. Do you know what a safe word is?" he asked, going straight to business.

"Yes, of course," she answered, offended by the question.

"Do you have one?" he asked, ignoring her tone.

"No, I've never had to use one," she admitted. She hadn’t done much of anything.

"The club's safe word is RED, so use it if you need to. I'm assuming you know when to use it," he said, in a presumptuous tone that almost, just almost, made her walk out the door.

"Yes, when you become a bigger badass than you already are," she answered, unable to hold it.

He pursed his lips in disgust, but didn’t say anything, regarding her remark. Right now he just wanted to have her in his hands, as his submissive.

"Good. Are you willing to start?" he asked instead.

"Yes, I believe so. What will you be doing?" she asked, wanting to know exactly what she was getting into.

"I'll start by tying you up, using some of my favorite knots, maybe use a soft flogger on you and even take you to one of the benches for some spanking. Do you think you can take it?" he asked, and his eyes had a different glow in them.

Alec had to admit he was feeling more aroused than he had expected. It would be a true challenge to stage a scene with her.

"Very well, that sounds fine," she replied, her head down, concealing her feelings. She was bit disappointed. He didn’t intend to have sex with her? She knew that not all scenes ended up with sex, but she wouldn’t have believed that this one would be one of those. God, she was already on fire. Her whole body felt as if she was on the very verge of the abyss.

He took a step closer to her, and with his index finger under her chin, he pulled her face up.

"The odds are  we will end up engaging in sex, so if you don’t want that, I need a solid ‘no’ right now." His eyes locked on hers. "Is it a ‘no’?" She shook her head, torrents of relief rushing through her body. "Say it out loud. I don’t want false interpretations," he insisted.

"It's not a ‘no’," she answered, in a low voice, thrilled to see the fire burning deep inside his dark eyes.

"Good, let’s start then. From now on, I want you to call me Sir. I want you to make a real effort to refrain from using that brat tongue of yours and for you to treat me with respect. You can speak freely, within limits, but don’t overuse that privilege, or I might decide a nice gag would come in handy. No protests, I'm the one giving the orders here. So unless something surpasses a hard limit or what you're consenting to do now, I don’t want to hear it," he said, and his voice changed completely. She would have sworn he had grown a couple of inches in front of her. His tone was deeper and his face looked as if he had dropped the mask of the civilized man and was now showing the raw, primal predator he really was.

A shudder of expectation ran down her spine, and she was only able to nod her acceptance.

"Words, I want to hear words every time I ask you something. All your answers and sentences must have a 'yes Sir' or ' no Sir' somewhere in it. Do you understand?”he asked. “Too many infractions will certainly lead to punishment. I believe you have enough knowledge of how the dynamic works, so I'm sure you understand that."

"Yes, Sir. You will take into consideration that I'm new in this, right, Sir?" she asked, trying to control the level of irony placed on the word 'Sir'.

His grin meant nothing good for her, that was for sure.

"Of course, I will take that into consideration."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Is everything clear? Can we start?" his question showed her his impatience to start, and she had to admit hers perfectly matched his.

She looked at him for a second, breathing deeply before she answered.

"Yes, Sir, I'm ready."

"Good, strip completely and leave your clothes in a neat pile over that chair," he said, signaling a chair by the door. It was his first order and he was able to see her fight her first instinct, to tell him to go straight to hell. The night was going to be something special, he was sure.

Katherine bit her bottom lip to avoid a sassy retort and slowly she started to take off her clothes and lay them neatly on the chair. During the whole time, he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her every move. When the final piece of clothing, her black thong, came off, she felt the heat of a blush forming on her cheeks. She didn’t remember having stood naked in front of a man like that before. It was hard not to feel self-conscious of her body.

"Are you done?" he asked, sarcastically, obviously referring to all the time she had taken just to remove her clothes.

"Yes, Sir."

"Very well." He took a step closer and grabbed her by her mane, hard, pulling her head back, in a harsh pull. "So, you were saying about me being a badass?" he asked, with a devious grin that made her dry swallow.

"Just my poorly founded opinion, Sir. I'm sure when I get to know you well, my opinion will change, Sir," she answered, her eyes locked on his, defiant, ignoring the sharp pain at her nape.

He looked at her and she could tell he was struggling between laughing and killing her. Fortunately, he decided to laugh, even if it was a short, dry laugh.

"Don't ever lose that spirit, sub," he said, loosening a bit of the pressure of his grip. He led her, by her mane toward the center of the room, leaving her there to go pick a few things from a cabinet on the other side of the room. He picked ropes and a few other items she wasn’t able to see what they were.

He returned to her, picking a small table on his way where he rested all the objects. He put the table next to her and took a few more minutes to look at her body, touching here and there, setting small fires all over her, wherever he touched.

Anticipation had her on the edge, already.

He finally grabbed the rope he had chosen, a beautiful red cotton rope, strong and at the same time, soft enough to avoid rope burns.

He untied the rope, and folding it in half, he started to work, moving her body at his will, as if she was a little more than a doll.

The ropes went around her breasts, tightly, making them tense up, and though it didn’t hurt yet, she could feel the pressure building inside her. After he was done with that part, he tied her arms behind her back, before he came back to her breasts, making the rope imprison her already hard nipples, applying even more pressure to the whole breast.

Her breath was getting heavier, and her heart thundered deafeningly in her chest. The feeling of his hands on her, added to the bittersweet kiss of the rope, had her completely aroused. She could feel the evidence of her desire slowly slipping through her lips.

When he was satisfied with the ropes over her breasts, he continued down, making lovely knots down her belly.

"Please, open your legs, shoulder-width," he ordered when he reached her crotch.

She hesitated, not sure she wanted him to see just how wet she was. But a single look at his face was more than enough to make her obey. He wouldn’t tolerate any disobedience, and she had no intention of getting punished that night, not if she could help it.

"Yes, Sir!" and she slowly opened her legs.

With a grin, he ran his fingers through her crotch, making them slide inside her lips, and taking them out completely coated in her cream, ripping a muffled moan from her lips.

"Someone is having fun," he said, with a devious grin, cleaning her fingers on her breasts, smearing her cream all over them, before he made the ropes go through her slit, tightening them hard, making her gasp, when he pulled them from behind, sinking the rope into her tender skin, one at each side of her lips, and then two inside her lips, applying pressure to her pussy and clit. "Is there a problem, sub?"

"No, Sir, no problem," she stammered, still panting a little bit.

"Good," he replied, finishing his work with the ropes. "Are you in pain?" he asked, checking all the ties.

"Not yet, Sir," she answered, knowing that the pressure she was feeling on her breasts would soon change into a dull ache.

"That's good. Let me know if it becomes unbearable," he said, looking at her, relishing his rope work on her; the way her breasts poked, tense, gaining that purplish tone so beautiful, and the way the ropes caged her hard nipples, making them stand out, hard and proud.

"Yes, Sir," her voice was little more than a whisper, her chest was heaving, and her breathing was labored.

She was aroused and he knew it wouldn’t take much to make her go over the edge, but he wanted her to hold it back, as much as he could make her do so.

He leaned over, pushed the ropes over her clit aside and started brushing his fingers over her aching knob, as he whispered in her ear:

"You can't come without permission, sub, and if you do, it will be considered a huge infraction, worthy of immediate punishment, understood?"

She whimpered at his words and actions, and his fingers never left her clit. She bit her bottom lip hard, trying to hold back the orgasm that had been building inside her, ever since she met him again.

There was no way in hell she would be able to stop it, if he kept rubbing her clit the way he was doing at that moment.

"Yes… Sir… I understand." But her legs almost failed her, due to the intense shuddering. He grabbed her by her waist with his other hand, his fingers never leaving her crotch. "Please… Sir… please…" she begged, not sure whether she wanted him to stop, or just allow her to let go. "Please, I can't take it anymore."

"What do you want, sub?" he whispered again, the tip of his tongue exploring her earlobe, making her shudder a little more.

"Let me come, please, Sir!" she begged once more, feeling the bulge of emotions spreading all over her. She wouldn’t make it.

She felt a sharp smack just over her aroused clit, at the same time he bit down hard on the crook of her neck and she lost it.

She flew over the edge, the bulge exploded inside her and she simply dived, head first on an ocean of pleasure and bliss.

And she came, hard, with no permission. Her body went flaccid in his arms and he had to grab her harder to stop her from falling to the floor.