Excerpt:
“Hello?” She pushed and discovered that it took a bit of effort to move the heavy wooden door. “Is anyone here?”
Lightning flashed like strobe lights behind her, which illuminated the interior even more than the candles that flickered from various iron sconces along the wall. Hesitantly, she stepped inside. The clicks of her heels and their slight echo sent goose bumps across her skin.
Aside from the thunder and constant beat of raindrops, silence met her.
“Hello?” Her voice echoed off the walls. “Okay…” This wasn’t exactly the kind of reception she’d expected.
More tapers burned on an elegant mahogany table situated in the center of an impressive and somewhat eerie foyer of dark marble floors and slate colored walls. The staircase beyond it was a masterpiece of elegant ironwork and detailed carvings. At least the place wasn’t filled with spider webs or bats. She glanced up at the lofty ceiling to be sure and discovered an impressive crystal chandelier that glittered in the candlelight.
Any other day she might’ve enjoyed a tour of the castle. Standing alone, dripping all over the marble floor on a dark and spooky night, she fisted the TPC letter inside her purse and considered high-tailing it back to the familiarity of her car. Shadows danced around the room to the beat of the flickering candlelight.
Then she noticed the signage propped up on the table beside a crystal vase full of fresh cut red roses and baby’s breath. The scripted letters TPC were prominently displayed along with her name scrawled in black ink with a masculine flare.
She glanced around as she made her way to the table, leaving the door ajar despite the raging storm outside. The hint of roses filled the air with a pleasant fragrance, but it did little to calm her nerves. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she listened carefully for the first indication that the door moved.
One creak and I’m out of here.
Reaching for the note, she spotted a small audio device next to it. She held her breath and flipped the note open.
Push play.
The brief instruction was written in the same heavy scrawl as her name. Her finger hovered over the audio player’s button. The note and audio device were tangible.
No more daydreaming in the comfort of her home or private fantasies enacted under the covers of her empty bed. No more pretending in the shower. This was for real.
Would the reality live up to what her mind envisioned? The idea of being dominated thrilled her, but would she be able to face it? She stood motionless while she wavered over whether she could go through with her plan.
Her fantasies had brought her here, but now that she was here…
She balled her hand into a fist, her short nails biting into her palm.
I’ve wanted this for a long time. I can do this. I can.
Chicken, taunted that little chastising voice inside her head.
She frowned and pressed Play.
“Welcome, Natalie.”
She blinked and smiled. Mmm, sexy voice.
“If you are listening to this tape, then you should know I am pleased by your bravery in having come this far.”
Her smile became a cheeky grin.
“But there is much more for you to do to prove yourself and earn the privilege of becoming a truly submissive slave. Are you bold enough to obey, despite the nerves and fear, the second thoughts, and the unknown?”
That was something she’d asked herself more than once on the drive over. It was one thing to dream about a man ripping her clothes off in a fit of desire and fucking her into a subjugated puddle of goo, and quite another to bow before a hot-blooded Master with whip in hand.
“We shall see. Your first command is to remove those wet clothes. Fold and place them in the chair near the front door along with any other belongings you brought with you. You’ll need only what I provide you this night.”
All of my clothes?
“Everything, Natalie,” the recording continued as if he’d anticipated her reaction. “I expect and demand complete obedience.”
A heady thrill of excitement skittered down her spine at his words. This is it!
“Then I want you to face the door and kneel in front of the table until I come for you. Patience is but one method of testing a person’s devotion toward a goal. When that goal is a desire for pleasure, patience or the lack thereof becomes even more telling. What are you willing to do…to endure…to earn pleasure?”
She waited for more but the recording stopped.
The rain continued to fall. Thunder growled. The door was open. She could leave now, but she didn’t move, at least not in that direction.
He was testing her, and she would not fail. Getting out of her wet clothes didn’t seem as daunting a task as it might’ve been moments earlier. Like he’d said, she had come here with one goal in mind. Pleasure, sexual pleasure.
That he’d surprised her with the candles, flowers, note and recording was a bonus. It was everything that her mundane marriage hadn’t been.
Mysterious, unique, a bit scary, and a touch romantic.
Before she lost her nerve, she shimmied out of her drippy clothes and piled everything up on the chair as instructed. She shut the front door before returning to the spot in front of the table where she took up a kneeling position and waited with bated breath.
Time crawled. She licked her lips and looked around. The thick castle walls muffled the fury of the storm. She stared at a candle as a teardrop of wax slid down its side.
How much time had passed? She glanced at her things nearby where her watch lay on top. Unfortunately she couldn’t see its face. She squirmed a bit on her knees as the hard marble became very uncomfortable, but she didn’t move from her spot.
Just when she’d thought he meant to make her kneel all night, a soft thud sounded upstairs followed by another and another.
"You're late, Ms. Simons." |
