Phantasie

by Kit Tunstall

  “Because you’re a little liar.” A trace of anger had appeared in his cool façade. “You sold me out, which means you owe me.”

  She shook her head more forcefully. “I didn’t—”

  “Enough. I don’t want to hear your fairytale about the pregnant woman again. I have something for you.”

  She watched warily as he extracted vertically folded papers from the inside of his suit jacket. She refused to take them when he walked forward and handed them to her. Serena gasped when he lifted her hand and forced her to grasp them. “What is it?” She refused to look at them, clinging to the irrational hope the papers would disappear if she pretended as though they didn’t exist.

  “Read them.”

  Reluctantly, Serena opened the package. The legal jargon confused her, but it looked like an arrest warrant. “What is this?” Her voice had taken on a screechy pitch.

  “Extradition orders and a warrant for your arrest when you return to New York.” He was cold as ice when he explained.

  Panic welled in Serena, and she struggled to take a deep breath. “I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’ll have to convince a jury of that.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. She tossed the papers on the bed. “Please, Ian, don’t do this. I didn’t take anything from you or sell it to that other company.”

  A glint of satisfaction appeared in his eyes. “I thought you might say that.” He extracted another vertically folded paper from his pocket. “Your alternative.”

  Serena opened it with trembling fingers. It didn’t take her long to absorb the contents. She looked up at him. “You can’t mean this.”

  “I certainly do.”

  She burned with humiliation. “How many people saw this contract?”

  Ian’s expression remained impassive. “Greg drafted it, with my input. Not only is he a fine Vice President, he also has a law degree.”

  She thrust the paper at him, dropping it when he wouldn’t take it. “I won’t do it. It’s crazy.”

  He lifted a brow. “Come on, Serena. You know you want to.”

  She didn’t like the husky inflection in his tone. She hugged herself. “Why would I want to? No sane person would agree to be someone’s slave for a week.” But she couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement that accompanied the thought of finally having her fantasies fulfilled. She would have Ian to herself for an entire week. Would he fall in love with her during that time? She firmed her mouth, reminding herself that he hadn’t even noticed her until he thought she had cheated him.

  He chuckled. “You wouldn’t be my slave, Serena. You can still think for yourself.”

  She shook her head, refusing to accept punishment for something she hadn’t done. No way was she going to give Ian that kind of power over her, regardless of how her heart raced at the thought of having him in control. “The contract said I had to submit to all your…sexual demands.”

  He knelt to pick it up. “That’s not slavery. And you did read the sixth clause, didn’t you? It offers you an out if things become too intense.”

  She snatched the paper from him and read it again. “Some out. If I utter the safe word, the contract is null and void, but the extradition order goes into effect.” She stiffened as he walked closer, pressing his body against hers. “What’re you doing?”

  “It’s not a bad thing.” His breath fanned across her neck. “I’m a dominant lover, and I know you want to be submissive.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t I?” He breathed against her ear. “Your roommate was more than willing to let me search your part of the room for fifty dollars.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

  “I wanted hard evidence before I involved my friend at the NYPD.”

  She swallowed. “Then why are you doing this? You didn’t find anything.”

  An angry note appeared in his tone. “But I did. I found your savings account book, and I had Greg’s friend run a history on the account. I found it very interesting that a hundred-thousand dollars was deposited into your account the day before you emailed my files.”

  She tried to whirl around, but his hands clamped down on her arms, holding her immobile. “That’s a lie. I went by the bank before flying out to get some spending money. There’s less than a hundred dollars in there now. You can call and verify it.”

  “I don’t need to. You had the money wired out the next day. Greg’s computer guy tracked it to the Caymans, but then lost it.”

  A bubble of hysteria rose in Serena’s throat, making it difficult to breathe, much less speak. She forced herself to say, “How would I even know about wire transfers or the Caymans? It’s not true. Someone’s setting me up.”

  “Maybe the pregnant woman,” he said with evident skepticism.

  “It can’t be admissible to a court,” she said firmly. “You broke into my room.”

  “True enough, but the detective working the case already confirmed the transfer of the money. It will be a big point at your trial.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she cried with frustration. “And why did you bring that stupid contract? Was it just to torture me?”

  He pulled her more closely against him, cupping her ribcage with one hand, while the other remained locked around her arm. His thumb barely touched her breast, with just enough pressure to let her know it was there. “Oh, no. I found something else during my impromptu search.”

  She trembled, dreading what he would reveal.

  “In the back of your closet, I found your little secret.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “Please, it’s just a harmless fantasy—” She broke off before accidentally blurting out he was the only one who ever appeared in those fantasies with her.

  Ian cupped her breast. “Imagine my surprise when I found your collection of books. Did you know we have similar tastes? Diary of a Submissive is one of my favorites. Tell me, do you think it’s really based on a true experience as the author claims, or do you suppose Miss Z just has an active imagination?” He flicked his thumb across her nipple.

  “Don’t make me do this, Ian.” Shame scorched Serena’s cheeks as she acknowledged the quiver of excitement she experienced at the thought of having Ian completely dominate her, as he had so many times in her nightly dreams.

  “You don’t have to. You can choose a trial.”

  She sagged. “What kind of choice is that?”

  “Make your decision, Serena. It’s the last one you’ll be making this week, if you take the smart option.”

  She shivered at the hint of menace in his tone. Was he just playing the part of the dominant to prolong her suffering, or did he really practice that lifestyle? Why would he be content to own her for a week when he could see her in prison for years? She voiced the question when it crossed her mind.

  “You took something precious from me. Not just money and hard work. You took something that was mine, something that ensured the stability of my company.” He kissed her neck before continuing. “I want to take something from you, and that’s your freedom of choice. You chose to betray me, and now you’ll have no choice in what I do to you for compensation.”

  She swallowed a lump of moisture. “Do you use pain?” She felt him shrug.

  “Not usually with experienced submissives, but a certain amount is frequently required for training. Do you like pain, Serena?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really like any of it. It’s just a fantasy,” she repeated.

  Ian’s laugh held a rough edge. “Haven’t you heard Castle Phantasie makes your dreams come true?” He finally released her, turning her around to face him. “Now, what will it be?”

  Her lips trembled, and she clamped them together, taking a moment to calm herself. How bad could a week be, as opposed to years in prison? Whoever had set her up must have done a meticulous job. Either way, she was going to have to pay for something she didn’t do. It
wasn’t fair, but what choice did she have? “I’ll sign the contract.”

  “I thought you would.” He appeared pleased as he handed her a pen. “There’s a writing table in the corner.”

  “I know,” she said sullenly and stalked to the table, slamming the contract on the table. She hesitated. “What’s the safe word?”

  “Guilty.” He practically purred the word.

  Right then, as she scrawled her signature, she vowed she wouldn’t make an admission of guilt for something she was innocent of, no matter how far he pushed her. “Bastard,” she muttered under her breath, as she tossed the decorative quill pen on top of the contract.

  He tsked his tongue. “Such names, Serena. Which reminds me, when we’re not in public, you’ll address me as Master.”

  “I won’t—”

  “Be quiet,” he said firmly. “When we’re in public, you’re allowed to call me Ian.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, making no effort to hide her sarcasm. “You actually plan to let me out of the room?”

  He grinned. “Of course, pet. You need to learn how to submit in all situations.”

  She bared her teeth at him, resisting the urge to call him several vile names that would make her mother in Peoria cringe. It wasn’t concern for her mother that prompted her prudence, but rather the knowledge that she now belonged to Ian until Sunday night. She didn’t think he would hesitate to punish her for not obeying him. “What now?”

  He cocked a brow. “What now, what?”

  “Master,” she said with ill grace.

  “Like a good pet, you need a collar.”

  Her wide eyes followed his smooth gait to the closet, where he opened the door and stepped inside. He returned with a small trunk that she hadn’t noticed when she inspected the space a few minutes ago. “I have everything we’ll need right here.” He set the trunk on the bed and opened it, revealing a variety of restraints, toys, and contraptions Serena didn’t recognize.

  She took a step back when he lifted what looked like a leather collar from the trunk. She wasn’t sure what it was, because it featured a golden chain attached to it, along with fine gold ropes that draped oddly. “What’s that?”

  “A harness. Take off your clothes.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, instinctively recoiling. “No.”

  “Don’t defy me, pet.” His expression hardened. “No isn’t a word in your vocabulary for the next week.”

  With shaking hands, Serena lifted the hem and pulled off the short cotton dress she wore. She dispensed with her tennis shoes and ankle socks before looking up again. She shivered when she stood before him in white panties and a chain-store bra.

  He shook his head. “All of it.”

  “I don’t want—” She bit down on her tongue, holding in her complaint. She turned away from him to remove the bra, a task made more difficult by her shaking hands. She gasped when he turned her back to him before she could remove her underwear. She felt a stir of hope that she could keep them on.

  “I want to watch you. Don’t turn away from me again.”

  Serena grasped the waistband and pushed them down quickly, before she could lose her nerve. She looked up when she heard him sigh.

  “You didn’t shave.” He shook his head and laid the harness on the bed. “Come with me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  He scowled at her. “Don’t question me, and don’t forget my title.”

  A dart of rebellion stirred in her, and she almost ended the charade right there. Only the thought of admitting guilt for something she hadn’t done made her continue. “Yes, Master.”

  He led her into the bathroom. “Get in the shower. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  With a glower of resentment, Serena entered the shower stall. She made faces at him through the frosted glass while she watched his silhouette strip before padding to the sink and removing something from a drawer. Why hadn’t she done a more thorough inspection when she explored the suite? She might have realized he was here and could have left.

  Only to have him catch her somewhere else. Ian wouldn’t give up until he felt she had compensated him for her supposed betrayal. He was beyond listening to reason.

  He opened the door and stepped in, holding a can of shaving cream and a package of tiny razors.

  “What are those…Master?” She remembered to tack it on at the last second.

  “Bikini razors. I came prepared.”

  She held out her hand, and her eyes widened when he slapped it lightly.

  “I’ll shave you.”

  She shook her head. “Nnn…I’m not comfortable with that, Master.”

  “Too bad.” The words were harsh, but his tone was gentle. “What I want you to do is put your foot up on the seat and hold the showerhead with both hands once I turn on the water.”

  She bit back further protests, wondering why she had thought submission was so sexy. It was a pain to not be able to protest anything—though she doubted they were forming a classic dominant/submissive bond. There was a level of implicit trust in a true relationship that she didn’t share with Ian.

  He fiddled with the faucets, and hot water cascaded down her back. She backed up against the stall and propped her foot on the booth built into the shower. Then she grasped the showerhead, locking her hands around it.

  Ian sat on the bench and turned sideways. “Yes, this should work nicely. Remember not to fidget.”

  She nodded and steeled herself.

  Before Ian smeared on shaving cream, he paused to stroke her pussy lips. “You’re wet. Did our little chat excite you?”

  She squirmed, refusing to answer.

  “Serena?” He smacked her lightly on one buttock. “Answer me.”

  “Somewhat, Master.”

  He chuckled. “Good. I want you to enjoy this experience.”

  She snorted.

  Ian looked wounded. “I do. It wasn’t until I realized your interests lay in this area that I even contemplated drawing up that contract.”

  “You implied otherwise the night we had sex…Master.”

  He shrugged. “You were right when you said I seemed angry. My blood was boiling that night. I didn’t know whether to fuck you or throttle you. Either way, I never intended to let you get away with what you had done by fucking your way out of it.”

  “Must you keep saying that word?” she demanded. “I hate ‘fuck’ in that context.”

  He tilted his head. “What should I call it? Making love? Do you really think we made love that night, pet?”

  “No.” She still had a shred of her pride. He didn’t ever have to know how infatuated she had been with him, how she had unsuccessfully fought against her crush changing to deeper emotions. That was before she knew what he was truly like. His behavior had cured her of the burden of her burgeoning love—hadn’t it?

  “Fine. Fucking it is.”

  “Whatever. So, what changed your mind?”

  Ian shrugged again. “It’s so hard to find a true submissive without the bother of a long-term relationship. I have the perfect opportunity to train you.”

  “It hardly seems worth the bother for a week.” She forced herself to sound bored.

  He chuckled. “I intend to pack a lot of instruction into this week.” He shook the shaving cream can and shot foam into his hand. “First lesson is, keep your body as your Master likes it. That means a shaved pussy.”

  She tensed as he slathered the cream on her pussy. It felt cool and tingly against her skin, and her juices flowed again as he took time to smooth it on slowly. She didn’t relax at the pleasure, knowing the razor came next. She had always been fascinated with the idea of submitting. The thought of mild bondage aroused her, but she had shied away from S&M. It wasn’t her thing. She didn’t know much about it, but she presumed a razor could be involved.

  “Calm down. This won’t take long.” He removed the safety guard from the first small razor and brought it to her pussy. He tautened the skin before
making the first swipe with the blade.

  Serena tried to remain calm as he shaved her with embarrassing thoroughness, even parting her lips and shaving the hair growing on the inner edge. She didn’t move until he put away the razor. She slumped forward, releasing the showerhead.

  “Wash yourself.” He handed her a bar of hotel soap. He leaned back, watching as she rinsed away the shaving cream before lathering her pussy with the soap.

  When she finished and rinsed, she stood before him, waiting for her next order. She rebelled at his commands, but couldn’t deny his take-charge attitude excited her on some level. So far, being submissive wasn’t too bad.

  “Come here. Stand in front of me.”

  Serena stepped forward, standing a few inches away from him. Her eyes widened when he stood up and pointed the showerhead away from them before kneeling on the floor of the shower. When he put his hands on her thighs and brought his face close to her pussy, her knees trembled.

  “Has anyone ever eaten you before?”

  “No, Master.”

  He made a noise that sounded like pleasure. “Would you like me to lick your pussy?”

  She nodded.

  “Ask me to.”

  She hesitated, torn between the desire to feel his tongue on her and the thought of asking him to do it. “Please,” she whispered.

  He slapped her thigh lightly. “You can do better than that, pet.”

  She squirmed as he leaned closer, blowing his hot breath across her inflamed pussy. With the hair removed, she was much more aware of each sensation. She could only imagine how his mouth would feel on the hypersensitive flesh. “Please, Master.”

  “Please what? Tell me what you want me to do.”

  She closed her eyes, determined not to look down. “Will you lick my pussy, Master?”

  “Yes, pet. Tell me how you want it.”

  Her eyes popped open. “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you want long, slow strokes, or do you want me to lick you with little flicks? Do you want me to tongue the inside of your pussy, or should I just lick your clit? Do you want me to suck on your clit?”

  She considered the options, not certain what to choose. Finally, she decided to go on instinct. “I’d like you to…” She trailed off, wondering why he was asking what she wanted. He was the “master”. Why would he get her input? Her brow furrowed as she contemplated the situation. Her eyes narrowed. Was this a test? “I want you to do whatever you would like, Master.”