The Alexandra Series

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “I’ll see Mr. Harold when we’re finished,” she stated. Her look was nearly as piercing as his. “This is certainly as important as anything he has to say to me right now.”

  An uneasy tension prevailed for ten minutes, until the reports were finished, and the three managers were on their way. Then, taking a deep breath, Jocelyn left her desk and walked down the hall to Reggie’s office.

  Inside Reggie’s inner sanctum, she found the man sitting at his desk pouring over paperwork, not bothering to look up. She waited at least five minutes before she spoke, although she was fuming the whole time. “I suppose this is some penance I’m paying for not following his highness’s orders?” she snapped, impatiently. The anger that had been brewing all day long was turning livid.

  Reggie looked up from his work. If he was moved by her sharp tongued remark, he didn’t show it. “I suppose you have more to say before I begin with you?”

  “Yes, in fact I do. If you intended to infuriate me, you certainly have. If you intended to be rude and unkind, you’ve been that, too. I’m not clear the game you play, but I promise, I will outlast you.”

  He smirked.

  “Don’t you dare smirk at me!”

  “Take off your clothes,” he said.

  “My clothes, here?” she said, the second time in two days responding to such a command.

  “Take off your clothes,” he repeated.

  “You’re going to punish me?” she asked, finally remembering what he’d said just before he’d sent her home.

  “Take off your clothes,” he repeated, the third time he spoke as calmly as he had before.

  And that third time shook her resolution to be angry. Whether it was fear, or lust, or shock motivating her, she let herself calm to his calm repose. Without really understanding what was happening to her, she was moving into his world.

  Undoing the buttons on her black suit, she pulled the coat apart. The corset remained, her breasts bouncing on top of the sturdy undergarment, then settled in against her chest. Slipping the skirt off of her hips, it was on the floor, Jocelyn not bothering to pick it up. Naked now, she stood before him, finding that she was actually a little scared. She felt vulnerable and very small, feelings she was unused to, though she found them curiously titillating.

  “Thank you,” Reggie said. “You can stop there.”

  Her only response was silence, the only one required.

  “Have you ever been caned?” he asked.

  She looked at him horrified.

  “Of course not,” Reggie said, remembering that she was no natural submissive. “I saw how much you admired my cane in the display at Tahoe. It seems only appropriate given your classic attire.” Viewing her carefully, noting the subtle emotions playing across her pretty face – confusion, arousal and a bit of fear. He liked where the scene was headed.

  Rising from his chair, he left Jocelyn standing before his desk while he retrieved a cane from a closet on the far wall. The long, glimmering implement took her breath away at first glance. It was worse yet when he whisked it through the air, and it sizzled ominously.

  “It will leave marks on your ass if I want it to,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t,” she blurted out. Dozens of held back protests came down to those two words.

  “You can grab your ankles, or you can rest your palms on the table,” he gave her the choice.

  He saw her trepidation, her faltering poise.

  “This is my world,” he reminded her. “I could think of a host of grievances I have with you, your haughty attitude, your disobedience with the corset, your snappy tongue, to name a few. But the fact remains, what I really want to see is you bend over with your naked ass facing me, this cane laid across your bare behind. It’ll be my great joy to see the nasty lines etched in your skin when I’m done. I want to see how you respond to pain.”

  Hearing this, she trembled even more. But nonetheless, she heeded his instructions and turned around toward the coffee table. Bending over, palms on the flat surface, she waited, feeling as if her legs might just collapse beneath her, they were so weakened from the strong emotion. The only heartening thing in the whole episode, somewhere in the middle of Reggie’s speech, Jocelyn saw what she was looking for. It was that adoration again, and a trace of affection. What a curious man he was, with such curious desires.

  The impact of the first cut practically knocked her from her feet.

  “Oh, my god, noooooo!”

  The second cut was worse, because the pain of the first hadn’t yet died away.

  “God noooo!” she wailed again.

  She stamped her feet, wiggled her ass, and begged him not to strike her again. Though in the middle of her passionate plea, the third cut landed, and a searing shot of heat brought tears to her eyes. In the middle of her tears, the fourth cut landed. Why she stood firm surprised them both.

  “Oh, please, Reggie!” She was beginning to sob.

  She heard the whizzing sound, recognizing it as the beginning of the pain. The fifth cut landed.

  “Oh, not another one!” she pleaded with him. Though the sixth cut followed fast.

  As soon as he was finished with the six, Reggie was on her backside. He steadied her with his hands and began to massage her, the warm caress combining with the hot heat of her aching bottom. She was sobbing and groaning again, though it was purely sexual this time.

  He unzipped his pants and withdrew his erection. Parting her legs, he felt for the soft mellow warmth of her pussy. With an unexpected tenderness, he entered that delicious female space and began his rhythmic movements. Becoming more vigorous with each thrust, he gathered her close to him in his arms so they moved as one body. His quick orgasm hit them both hard, the final sharp thrust exploding places in her where she never knew there was such rich sensation. His hands completed what his cock had begun, bringing her to a final orgasmic spasm as she rocked against him, writhing and groaning, not wanting the pleasure to end.

  His arms remained around her, even when his climax was over, and hers was just a memory, even when the stifling air began to cool. She fell back against his chest, against the starched shirt that was wet and wrinkled, where she could feel the buckle of his belt on her back, and the scratchy feel of his pants rubbing on her raw bottom.

  “Did you cut the skin?” she asked him.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “No!”

  “I could have done that with the cane, you know.”

  “And it would have hurt even more?” she wondered.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been caned.”

  “But did you cut the skin?” she asked again.

  “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to.”

  His hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts, and dropping lower to fondle her between her legs. She could have easily come again.

  “Will you have me once more?” she asked, a little more submissively than Jocelyn Killian would have before.

  It was a request no dominant should grant with a submissive so fresh and untested. Perhaps it had been a mistake holding her so long after the cumming was over. She assumed too much. Reggie was certain of that. But the thought of another few minutes wrapped arm in arm was too appealing to ignore, and the thought of taking her to a climax again ignited his need to control.

  This time he wanted to see her face when she came. In the same back to front position, he toyed with her cunt, bringing her to an edge again, though before she orgasmed, he laid her down on the sleek black coffee table, and forced her legs wide. Making her look him in the eye as he played with her cunt with one hand, he held her hands in his other hand – a strange kind of bondage.

  She climaxed with a distinct vacant expression as if she was running away in her own body to some distant place. The look in her eyes faded with her; and when the moment passed, she returned to look at Reggie with a warm smile, her face like that of an innocent seeing something extraordinary for the first time.

  Reggie left her lying o
n the table while he scooped up his clothes and retreated to his bathroom at the far end of the office. When he returned a scant five minutes later, he was dressed in impeccable form. Either he was a magician or he had a change of clothes in his bath, Jocelyn thought.

  She hadn’t budged, reclining still, legs wide.

  “You stay there, and the cleaning staff will have a treat tonight,” Reggie said, when he returned to the room.

  She hummed something nonsensical and flashed him a broad Jocelyn Killian smile.

  When he was behind the desk again, he took back the air of the cool executive. “Get dressed, darling,” he said, and he began to shuffle through his papers. “You are getting that report I wanted, aren’t you?”

  “You mean the one you prevented me from doing all day?” she asked, as she rose from the table.

  “I want it before you leave tonight,” he said.

  While she dressed, Reggie took a time out from his work to watch Jocelyn straighten the corset, and the hose, in which there was one long horrible run from the toe to the top of the stocking. When she was about to pull the skirt back on, he made her turn around, so he could view her bottom. He said nothing, but watched as she hid away the crisscrossed lines on her ass and zipped the skirt.

  “I probably look a sight,” she said with a sigh, turning back to him as she buttoned her jacket.

  “You can finish that off in the bath,” he said. “Just don’t take too long. I want to get out of here by eight.”

  ***

  It was ten minutes to eight when Jocelyn appeared in his Reggie’s office. She had the long overdue report in hand and presented it to him.

  “So, we’re going to dinner,” he said, taking the report from her hand. Not glancing at the file, he got up and grabbed his suit coat from a chair in the corner.

  You’re not even going to look at it?” Jocelyn said, annoyed.

  “My, how quick we change from peaceful to high-strung,” he said, observing the bite in her voice. “Maybe you need a few more cuts of the cane?”

  “Oh heavens no, but…”

  “Hush. I’m hungry and so are you.”

  He reached out for her as he was on his way toward the door, kissing her cheek with rare affection.

  ***

  The deli was crowded, the tables cramped, Jocelyn and Reggie finding a tiny table in the back corner, only slightly away from the bustle of activity.

  “Food here’s great,” he said.

  “I know,” she agreed. “I used to live in a flat down the block.”

  “Rotten neighborhood,” he remarked. A genuine look of concern in his eye, as if he was thinking of her walking the rough streets of this part of town.

  “I know that, too. Fought off drunks here more than I’d have liked. Thankfully they were drunk.”

  “So, what landed you in this avenue of despair?”

  “It was hardly despair at all. I was starting my own company. I needed a place in the city. This was all I could afford. And the apartment was nice, really nice, big rooms, fresh paint, totally luxury,” she joked.

  He chuckled, her beguiling face and especially the clear captivating drama in her green eyes made it easy for him to laugh.

  “You’ve never been poor have you?” she asked.

  “Once.”

  “Really? When?”

  “I flunked out of law school, and my father threatened to disown me. He did cut off all my money.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Started making it. Ground floor success story. Someone will write a book about me someday.”

  “My you’re smug.”

  “I’m well practiced.” He looked at Jocelyn’s bright face. She glowed in the dingy light of the deli, like a pure radiant star amidst the odd gloom of the place. Her lustrous hair almost sparkled.

  “Oops, don’t say too much, you might really tell tales on yourself,” she said.

  “I should be careful of you. I’m beginning to think that you study people as much as I do.”

  She smiled, liking his lighthearted mood. “So, if daddy cut you off, how’d you get the place at Lake Tahoe?”

  “I inherited his money, in spite of his disapproval of me. He had no other progeny, and by the time he died, I’d made a good deal of money. His viewpoint of me was tolerable by then, I so suppose the inheritance was not too bitter a pill to swallow.”

  “You sound cynical.”

  “And you think that’s bad, optimist that you are?”

  “I am an optimist. I look for good in people and I have a huge heart.”

  He couldn’t deny that, she was the kind of woman who easily enchanted people with her wit and good humor. But she didn’t put on raucous displays, and he liked that too.

  “Eat your sandwich,” he ordered her, returning to his own.

  “Hard to talk about such personal things, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t do it often.”

  “That’s too bad.” There was not a trace of judgment, just outspoken observation.

  “So am I passing your tests?” she asked, after she finally polished off the food on her plate.

  “It shouldn’t be a test at all. It should be something you desire.”

  “I do.”

  He looked at her, disbelieving. “Since we’re into candid answers, you tell me, why do you need me, Jocelyn Killian? Why this pursuit? I’m way out of your routine, nowhere near your usual brand of lover.”

  “You think so?”

  He glared at her, expecting a real answer.

  “Frankly, Reg, I don’t need you. Why do I want you?” She paused, trying to find the best way to put into words feelings that were unclear, even to her. “I suppose, it’s because you’re so fucking handsome, and you turn me on. And even more, I look at you as a counterpoint to every other man I’ve ever known. You notice I’m not married, and I never have been, so I’ve obviously not been involved with the right man, yet. You intrigue me. Despite what you say about yourself, I think there’s this sumptuously warm, sexy, subtle man cloaked by all that cool. I believe there’s substance there inside that prickly heart.”

  “And you think walking around in my world you’ll find whatever it is you think is behind this façade?”

  “I already have, that first night. You were reckless, Reg, letting all that passion out. Believe me, if I thought you didn’t care about me, and I mean really care, I wouldn’t spend another minute with you.”

  He sat back to eye her with a sharp edged glint in the steely blue eyes. “I’ve been careful with you, Jocelyn” he said. “But the gloves are coming off. We’ll see if you really want me then.”

  His remark had no effect. “You’re so sure I’m going to turn away from you. You must really have a poor image of your worth.”

  “I know what I’m worth. We’ll see if you value what I offer.”

  “You haven’t thrown me yet.”

  “This is not a challenge match, fought in a ring. This is life, my life, me. Don’t toy with it.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it. I wouldn’t hurt you for anything. But I do think I’m dangerous for you. You might have to redefine who you are, take another look at the man behind the beautiful image. There haven’t been many women who’ve made you do that, have there?”

  “Just one, and she rejected what she saw.”

  “Then she didn’t look far enough.”

  “No kid gloves,” he said, without further comment.

  “No gloves,” Jocelyn repeated back, her heart more willing than ever to walk into the unreal dream of Reggie’s private domain, convinced he’d find as many surprises there as she would.

  Chapter Five

  “We take the train through Germany, the scenery is lovely especially this time of year.” Reggie was sitting at his desk, the unexpected proposal taking Jocelyn of guard. It was a week after their last major rendezvous of heart and body. She’d been content to have him in short doses – busy as she was with a company to run, and mountains of work, and
Reggie becoming ever more demanding of her time in his own business.

  “Why do you want to take me, I’m not an employee?”

  “I want your observations.”

  “Ah, I’m surprised you value them.”

  “I do. You should know that.”

  “You fight them tooth and nail.”

  “Sharpens your vision to have it challenged. But what do you say, you going to take the trip or not?”

  “A week?”

  “Six days.”

  “Any other arrangements you have in mind?”

  He smirked. “You can count on it,” he said. His crisp voice had that remarkable edge, as if he was just about to tell her to strip for him. She wouldn’t have minded it in the slightest gazing at that quality in him, whatever it was, the one that drove her mad with sexual longing. She could practically taste the desire on her lips.

  “It will push half my life aside when I can hardly afford to,” she said.

  “It’s your choice, if you can’t you can’t.”

  He was not so charming with that remark, and took a phone call before Jocelyn could answer. She thought he’d never get off, and was tempted to leave in the middle of the drawn out conversation. However, if he wanted her to leave, he would have shooed her away with his hand. He’d done that before.

  “I’ll arrange it,” she said, when he was finished.

  “Good, we fly out Sunday night.”

  It was Thursday. Hardly four days to get ready. She moved quickly out his office door, knowing she had a lot of rearranging to do.

  As much for love and lust, as business. He hadn’t said it, but she was sure there was something wicked up his sleeves. It was like him to provoke situations with surprise attacks. If she relished an adventure, this would be it.

  ***

  The rumbling train jostled her body into an erotic attitude. She was hopelessly romantic in picturesque old world settings, and the landscape of Germany was moving her into a pleasantly altered state.

  Reggie sat beside her, both of them settling into the train ride through the mountains. Jet lag knocked out any desire for conversation or any attempt to pick away in tiny measures at the vast unexplored territory in their understanding of each other. It was a long day, and a long night traveling with a near stranger, whose presence at her side did nothing but arouse her. Constant arousal was painful without some kind of fulfillment.