The Alexandra Series

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Reggie descended on me swiftly, capturing all my attention and all my thoughts, holding me subject to his manipulation. He knelt on one knee in front of me, and seeing my hands fidget nervously in my lap, he purposefully took them in his and held them tight. Oh my, how warm they were against my cool clammy skin.

  “Relax, Alex. You’re doing just fine,” he said softly, privately, as if there was no one else in the room. I didn’t think I was ‘doing just fine’ at all, but I was too spooked to say a word. Feeling so vulnerable and small, I had the sudden feeling that this was all wrong, I shouldn’t be here, and I’d be doing myself a huge favor if I got up and left. But the way he held my hands, I couldn’t move. Something in me refused to pull away even if my mind was screaming for me to do just that. “You’re doing fine,” he repeated, then he picked up my hands and carefully placed each one on an outer edge of the stool. In that position, I couldn’t slump forward and my breasts jutted out as if on display. “Be proud of who you are and what you’re doing,” he continued to keep me mesmerized as he grasped each knee and pulled them wide apart. Anyone standing before me could see all the way to my crotch. The message clear: he had taken charge of me. I couldn’t tell if the others in the room were looking, but in that intimate moment, no one else in the room mattered but Reggie and me.

  “Alex, you will follow my directions without question,” he said with a gravitas that went right to my surrendering soul. “This is important, your initiation. How this goes will tell me a good deal about you and the training that will follow.” The force of his words grabbed hold of me, and in the huge silence that followed, he seemed to say, “You will hold on, I’ll see to that. I am the master of this drama.” I trusted him; and that trust and my desire kept me from fleeing.

  Reggie knew my fears, all my apprehensions and desires, whether I’d voiced them or not. From this point there was no turning back. He’d look like a fool if I defied him after this, so he took a moment more with me, searching for something in me that only he could detect, something that might alter his plans for the night. He looked for a flaw, perhaps a defect of character that would judge me unworthy of his attention. It was a cautious deliberate search, his perusal so circumspect that it felt as if he were inspecting me from the inside out. Apparently he found nothing. Satisfied that I was sufficiently in his power, he returned my silence with a last lingering glance, then rose to begin, moving rapidly away from me to a place of command behind the sofas.

  “Elliot,” Reggie’s voice rose in volume, passionate and forceful. “It’s time that Alexandra was initiated. Will you do the honors?”

  “Yes sir.” Elliot smiled. I suddenly quaked with fright.

  I hadn’t paid attention to Elliot that evening; he didn’t share Reggie’s power or even Will’s; and he was nothing like the darkly brooding stableman, Gus. Elliot was instead an elegant, polished young man, aristocratic in his bearing but almost prissy, suggesting a pampered youth, a man of carnal lust, but certainly no purpose.

  Reggie, on the other hand, moved about the room with direction, intention and great vigor; a chameleon of moods, he charged the moment with his mastery, orchestrating our play. This was his work and his passion. Exacting, commanding, sure and experienced, he was ruthless about the role he assumed. Was he cruel too? I wondered.

  “Alexandra,” his voice boomed, “have you ever been taken in the ass?”

  “God no!” I gasped. Though my reply screamed from within me, I was barely able to speak above a whisper. Tears began to well up in my eyes, not that my display of emotion mattered to anyone but me.

  “Speak up!” he insisted.

  “No. No,” I shouted back. “I’ve never been taken in the ass.”

  “Good.” He stopped pacing some ten feet from me and looked me directly in the eye.

  “Stand up.”

  I stood. My body seemed to waver as I was dizzy with fear. His eyes pierced through me as if they alone were holding me upright.

  “Lift your skirt.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered, my limbs were frozen.

  His eyes penetrated deeper, his voice steely cold, “Now.”

  I hesitated, and then my fingers seemed to move on their own, finding their way to the bottom of my skirt, and tugging at the hem. Four pairs of eyes watched intently, though I looked only at Reggie, as my skirt rose just above my garters.

  “Higher,” he commanded.

  I pulled the skirt higher still, soon aware that my brief panties and the whiteness of my belly above them were becoming visible to everyone in the room. I shivered so fiercely that I suddenly went cold.

  “Now remove your panties.”

  Again I hesitated, long enough to feel the determination behind Reggie’s instruction. He didn’t have to speak.

  I told myself to relax, the word continuing like a mantra until I finally took a deep breath, ran my fingers under the elastic of the pale blue panties and drew them down over my ass and thighs. Letting them drop to the floor, I disentangled them from my feet, and then stood upright before the four men with my sex naked and visible. I closed my eyes so as not to see them staring at me. Though as I did, Reggie came to me and raised my chin in his gentle hand, “Open your eyes, Alexandra. Look at them. See how they look at you.”

  I trembled uneasily, but obeyed. I thought Gus would leap out and devour me. Elliot was all lust. Looking at Will was the worst. I instantly recoiled, seeing how cold he’d become, nearly the mirror of Reggie himself.

  For all my nerves and fright, however, my body betrayed my lust. The warmth of my desire had flooded through me, leaving my pussy glistening with female dew, and me with no way to hide the physical response with it so blatantly on display. Whatever Reggie had in mind, I wanted it now. For all the humiliation I’d suffered, I needed some sort of satisfaction. I didn’t even care if it was Elliot’s cock in my ass.

  Moments passed into minutes, which passed into an eternity. How much longer did I have to wait?

  At last Reggie’s voice reached out to me and grabbed me with his next command.

  “Face the fireplace,” he ordered.

  That was easy enough.

  “Now kneel on the stool.”

  Even that I did with some ease. I knew the men were looking but at least I didn’t have to look at them.

  “Spread your knees wide apart,” he commanded with a growing urgency in his voice.

  “Wider,” he raised his voice when I didn’t respond fast enough to please him.

  I complied again, moving my knees as far apart as the stool would allow.

  “Now bend over, head and shoulders to the leather.”

  As I bent down, I could see Will behind me from the corner of my eye. The coldness had vanished, replaced by apprehension that matched my own. It was fleeting, but still a comfort.

  As I followed Reggie’s instructions, he moved to me and pushed my upper body firmly into the cold leather. His hand was firm, and the authority behind it almost made me orgasm right there. I clutched the front legs to keep my balance, and as the air caressed my upturned rear, I became painfully aware of how exposed I was in the awkward pose. Despite that fact, I found myself strangely pleased that I was in the center of this drama, the focus of their attention. I wanted more. I wanted their hands all over me, their fingers and tongues probing my womanly cleft, getting me off. If only that were Reggie’s game.

  “Open wider,” he snapped. “Let’s see your virgin target.” He shoved down until I could go no further and the skin of my behind was drawn tight. My asshole was there for them to see along with the juices leaking from my sex below. The position was uncomfortable, and I might have collapsed had Reggie not read my mind and offered a few words to inspire me. “You’ll need to hold yourself in place, or I’ll tie you down.”

  I looked at the world from upside down, seeing Elliot approaching my backside with his fully erect cock protruding from his trousers. It was sheathed, longer but not as thick as Will’s. I tried to imagine it thrusting i
nto my body. I watched him grease it with a thick white cream, then saw Reggie take a handful for himself. He smeared it around my anal hole, prodding the delicate opening with a finger. I gasped inside and practically jerked myself from the tenuous pose. The invasion alarmed me and I waited, wondering what it would feel like to have the heft of a man’s cock inside that tight space.

  When Reggie finally moved away Elliot moved in for the christening. He grabbed hold of my ass with firm hands, squeezing hard enough to hurt. Then came the head of his erection, probing the rim of my anus, teasing me for so long that I wondered if he’d enter me at all. Without warning, he suddenly shoved himself into the tight place. It didn’t want to give, and I nearly toppled forward, feeling a pain so rich and foreign to my body, I couldn’t believe its intensity. As he thrust deeper, I heard Reggie’s voice rise above my anguished moans, “Relax, Alexandra.” But his words were lost on me, the pain was just too much.

  Elliot continued to move in and out of my channel. To relax was impossible, each movement was less bearable than the one before.

  “Stop, please stop, oh please! I can’t take it!” I finally blurted out. I collapsed into the leather, yanking Elliot’s cock from my ass.

  “The bitch needs tying,” I heard a cruel voice shout. Gus.

  “Get up, Alexandra,” Reggie overruled him. He stood beside me with a steadying hand on my back. “You will get through this, I promise you. Now get back on your knees and make every effort to relax. And breathe.”

  Following his order, I repositioned myself on the stool, breathing deeply, trying to relax as Elliot thrust himself into me once again – much slower this time. He took it easy at the start, allowing me the chance to get used to the odd sensations his cock produced. It wasn’t long before he was plowing into me more vigorously, losing himself in his own pleasure and ignoring me completely. I felt his wildness – it was almost more than I could stand. The pain was constant for a while, then eased off, then rose up again when Elliot began to fuck me harder. He kneaded my ass; he pinched my clit below. He must have liked the way I responded because he kept up the brutal play until I cried and moaned, and thrashed about as much as the position allowed. Despite the intensity of his abuse, I knew I found some pleasure in that fucking – some mysterious part of me seemed to love being forced to submit this way. He banged away inside my ass until he went suddenly rigid with his groin pressed against me. He remained there for a moment, a deep cry welling up from within. He’d started to come. With him locked against me, his fists grasping my flesh, spasm after spasm wracked his body. His heat poured into me like nothing I’d ever before experienced. I felt him welded to me, his cock belonging to me, and a feeling of profound satisfaction, even pleasure, that I had lowered myself enough to serve him in this way.

  When he pushed me away and his cock withdrew, I collapsed against the stool only to discover a fresh new pain envelope my body. There was a constant throbbing, a dull ache, and occasionally sharp shooting pains when I moved. I waited, immobilized, not wanting to budge from that place.

  As the minutes passed and the pain began to subside, I found myself turning my attention to the pleasure building in my body. The heat had warmed me, and my own need to release was beginning to well up from within. I could feel myself start to grind against the stool, but I quickly stopped, reminded that I’d just been violated in the presence of three men, in the presence of my own lover. Thoughts of my exposure, and the rudeness of the assault overpowered my pleasure and drove it far from me. Perhaps I blacked out. I don’t remember time passing, or voices or bodies about me, or doors opening and closing. I remember nothing until a cool chill of air greeted my naked ass and gentle hands pulled me carefully from the stool. Elliot’s hands.

  We were alone. I gazed about the deserted room, which seemed so innocent in its well ordered arrangement. So calm. So serene now that the passion had been spent. I looked at Elliot, with his weapon of assault now tucked inside his trousers. He was calm. He’d had his pleasure and was now waiting on me.

  As I stood, I pulled my skirt down to cover my nakedness. Why had he stayed? Was he with me on Reggie’s command? I considered the strange circumstances, being ministered to by the very man who had attacked me in the crudest sort of violation. Yet I hadn’t any real feelings for him one way or the other; and he had none for me I surmised by his cool detachment.

  All of a sudden, I understood how my time with Reggie would play out. I awakened with amazing clarity, knowing that everything had been prearranged, Reggie designing it all from the moment I entered the living room. He’d designed my violation, and the consolation now. I was being carefully managed, manipulated into submission and humiliation by a master of the craft. Ah yes! It was my choice, but this was his drama to contrive. I was just a player – like all the others were players in his game. Hadn’t Will said as much?

  And where was Reggie now?

  Would this be how my training would continue?

  This knack for drama and mastery was Reggie’s gift. If I surmised correctly, he would devise and plan and set into motion scenes to stimulate my desires and allow me to experience them firsthand. But he intended to observe detached. He wouldn’t be my lover. He had no intention of passionately taking me. All my desires to have him, to be the welcomed plaything in his bed, were a foolish fantasy.

  I despised him for that. But in that moment a fresh resolve was born in me. He wouldn’t get away with this detachment; he wouldn’t move me so and remain so cool. I could feel a fire burning deep in me, a rage to join the pain my body felt. It infused me with a determination to conquer him, and make him lust for me so passionately that he couldn’t contain himself behind that careful composure. I would chip away at his practiced resolve. I’d make him want me, and I would have him. I would have all of him for me – no matter what the cost. Why this was so important to me I couldn’t say. But it seemed the only way I could deal with my awakening desire was to, at least in my small private way, conquer it by conquering the master.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I returned to my bedroom as fast as I possibly could and lay on my bed for some time, my anger turning into fierce resolve. Soon the darkness of the room surrounded me with a blanket of calm, and my emotions finally settled.

  As the warm cushion of the bed enveloped me in its sensual texture, and the pain of my backside reminded me of the scene I’d just created (Oh yes! I knew that I’d created this, even though I didn’t want to admit how closely the scenario resembled my inner fantasies), I found myself aroused. My body was so filled with sensation, it begged for some release, but I didn’t even try to masturbate. The hurt I’d suffered was still strong enough to overrule thoughts of pleasure. He was fucking with my fantasies – interjecting his own, and I couldn’t stand that.

  I turned on the bedside lamp to inspect my rear, and to my surprise, there was no evidence that anything had taken place. No reddened skin where Elliot’s hands had so vigorously massaged. A closer inspection revealed no real damage. I was sore, very sore but any pain was far more internal than external.

  As I reached to turn off the lamp and sleep, I noticed a cloth covered notebook on the table, its pages blank. Tucked inside, a blue folded sheet of Reggie’s stationery bore the words: “Write the truth completely, remember the total truth.”

  “How dare he!” I scowled aloud. I tore the paper in two and flung the book against the wall, the pages flying to the floor. I proceeded to the bath, too angry to sleep.

  The morning that streamed through my window hit the bed with brilliant white light. Dust danced in the sunshine making the room seem to glimmer. My body glowed warmly as I lay still, the place between my legs damp with expectancy. Yet I jerked in agony as I moved. Remembering the night before, I found my anger returning.

  It was seven o’clock. A breakfast tray sat neatly at my bedside. “Damn them! They think I can’t come down for breakfast. I’ll show the bastards!”

  I dressed and descended the front stairs on my
way to the dining room, walking carefully so as not to reveal the discomfort I felt. I noticed the startled look in Reggie’s eyes when I entered the room.

  “Where’s Will?” I asked evenly.

  “He needed to leave,” Reggie replied. “He said to tell you he’d be here Saturday morning. We were just starting breakfast. You want to join us?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation, and I gingerly took a seat next to Ann at the table.

  “Alexandra, would you like a walk in the garden this morning?” Reggie asked while passing me a plate of bacon and eggs. “I don’t believe you’ve had the chance to see the them.”

  “Certainly,” I replied. “What kind of gardens do you have?”

  “Oh, Alex, the flowers are gorgeous,” Ann gushed. “Reggie has some magnificent roses.”

  “Are these are some of them?” I asked, plucking a pink rose from the arrangement before me.

  “Yes, they are,” Reggie replied. “I picked them this morning.”

  I recognized them. Several of the same pink buds decorated the tray by my bedside. I wondered for a moment if I’d misjudged the situation.

  Exiting through the French doors in the dining room, we took our stroll after breakfast, down the brick path that led to a wisteria covered arbor and the entrance to the most exquisite place I’d ever seen. Quite contrary to the more modern look of the house, this secluded garden was from another time, English perhaps, perfectly planted with each flower blooming vibrantly, the colors well placed next to its neighbors to accentuate the entire effect. And in the center of each flowerbed, roses grew. Yellow, white, pink, red, salmon and pale yellow tinged with pink, my favorite.

  “I like these best,” I said, lightly touching the petals of a pink bush.