The Revelation

by Lauren Rowe

  She makes a face. “Could you be more specific about how you define ‘setting the stage’?”

  “Not without giving things away.”

  There’s a long beat.

  “I promise you won’t be embarrassed or compromised in any way,” I say. “You’ll always be fully dressed. I just wanna make these imaginary-pornos as close as possible to what you described to me—and occasionally I think I might need to cast an extra or two to do it.”

  She beams a huge smile at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You’re adorable.”

  I scoff.

  “You are.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  She nods. “I’ve got a safe word, right? If I’ve got a problem with anything at any time, then I’ll use it.”

  “That’s right, babe. You can always count on From Justin to Kelly to protect you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, Joshua. You’re a silly, silly man.”

  I laugh.

  “And a very sweet one, too.”

  Chapter 29

  Josh

  “Why don’t you shower in my bathroom while I use the shower in the guest room?” I suggest as Kat and I walk into my house. We’ve just come in from an awesome day of hiking and climbing rocks in Malibu and we’re both covered in a thick sheen of sweat and dirt. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and answer a few work emails before we head back out.”

  “Okay,” she says. “Sounds good.”

  “Feel free to use the sauna in my bathroom, if you want.” I look at my watch. “We’ve got just under an hour before we need to leave to make our reservation. This place is impossible to get into, so we can’t be late.”

  “Hey, you probably take longer than I do, Mr. Exfoliate and Moisturize.”

  “You’ve only got one skin, Kat,” I say.

  She laughs.

  I show her where the towels are and leave her to get to it and then race out of my room to make a phone call in the guest room.

  “Hello?” the woman on the other end of the line says.

  My pulse is pounding in my ears. “Hey, Kaitlyn. This is Josh Faraday. Just calling to confirm we’re still on for tonight?”

  “Yeah.” She exhales. “I really can’t emphasize enough how much trepidation I have about this. I’m really putting my faith in Reed. He said you’re a great guy and that I can trust you completely, so I’m taking a gigantic leap of faith. Please don’t make me regret this.”

  “Oh, I know this is a huge favor—and I’m really grateful. Reed isn’t steering you wrong. I’m totally trustworthy. I paid close attention at our walk-through-orientation on Tuesday, and I’ll be ridiculously careful and respectful with all your stuff, just like you showed me, I promise. If I break anything, no matter how slightly, I’ll replace it with a brand new model—and I won’t touch any of the stuff you told me is off limits. Like I said, this is more for show than anything—I just wanna set the stage for her—really wow her when she opens her eyes for the first time.”

  Kaitlyn clicks her tongue. “Just, please. This could go horribly wrong a thousand ways.”

  I don’t like the anxious tone in her voice. God help me if this woman does an about-face and changes her mind. “Hey, how ’bout I throw another ten grand your way, just to say thank you and put your mind at ease?”

  “Whoa. Really?”

  “Yeah. Maybe the price we originally agreed upon was too low. It’s not like there’s a market for this kind of rental. I don’t want you feeling taken advantage of.”

  “Wow, thanks.” Her voice is noticeably warmer. “Yeah, another ten grand would definitely put me at ease. Thanks. You still want me to burst in on you at ten?”

  I laugh. “Hell yeah, I do. That’s a critical part of my girl’s fantasy. I’ll time everything on my end so we’ll be ready for you exactly at ten. I’ll leave your plastic sword outside the door.”

  “Your girlfriend’s got quite the imagination.”

  “Yeah, she does,” I say, smiling to myself. I like hearing the words “your girlfriend” in reference to Kat.

  “You’re sure you wanna do the whole sword-fight-thing? I still think it’s gonna be more comedic than sexy, Josh.”

  “Yeah, I gotta do it. My girlfriend’s gonna love it.”

  Kaitlyn exhales. “Okay. If you insist.”

  “My girl’s got this bizarre little script in her head. I’ve gotta stick to it.”

  “Okay,” Kaitlyn says. “To each her own.”

  “So we’re good, then?”

  “Yep. We’re good.”

  “What time can we come?”

  “Any time. The place is ready for you now. I’ll text the door-code to you. Oh, and I bought some brand new feather ticklers for you to use. They’re on that rack I showed you to use—the one next to the harness.”

  “Thanks so much.”

  “Please don’t touch anything but what I showed you.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  She exhales audibly for the hundredth time during this short conversation. “Josh, I know we already talked about this, but it bears repeating: Don’t try to push things too far. You don’t have a clue what you’re doing and she’s a total newbie. The shock value of the place is gonna be the main thing, okay? Don’t try anything other than what I explained to you or else you’re gonna hurt or scare her.”

  “I promise. Thank you. This is just gonna be about role-play. Nothing hardcore, I promise.”

  “Please don’t make me regret this.”

  “I won’t.”

  She pauses. “So can you bring the extra money tonight? All cash?”

  “Yup. No problem. I’ll put it outside the door with your sword.”

  “Thanks. You’re absolutely sure about that damned sword?”

  “Positive. It’s in the script. Gotta do it.” I chuckle. “See you in a bit.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  Chapter 30

  Kat

  I lean into the mirror to apply a light sheen of gloss to my lips. I scrutinize my eye shadow. Maybe I should add a little more shimmer to my—

  The door to the bathroom bursts wide open.

  A black-clad figure in a ski mask lunges at me.

  I shriek at the top of my lungs.

  But before I can move or react beyond screaming in terror, the blackened figure grabs my hand and places something in my palm. I look down, my throat burning and my hand trembling. A poker chip. Holy shitballs. Every single drop of blood in my body whooshes into my crotch, all at once. Is it possible to have a heart attack and orgasm at the same time?

  I look back up at the menacing figure in the ski mask, but before I can react further, he wraps me into a stifling bear hug, sending the unmistakable scent of Josh’s cologne into my nostrils.

  “No!” I shout, wiggling and squirming in my deliciously scented attacker’s arms. “Let me go!”

  But the brute won’t be deterred. He grabs my wrists roughly and slaps soft cuffs on them, immobilizing me with his strong arms as he does.

  “No!” I shout again, trying desperately to free myself from the dreaded cuffs. “Let me go!” I squirm and writhe with all my might, but, goddammit, I can’t free myself from my bindings or my attacker’s strong arms. (Yay!)

  “No,” I choke out, even though every fiber of my body wants to yell, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  I feel something slipping over the top my head and then over my eyes (soft satin!) and suddenly everything goes completely black.

  “Let me go!” I yell. “Right now!”

  But the horrible man—or dare I say, the horribly sexy man?—doesn’t stop. He lifts me completely off the ground, crushing my body against his, and, in a flash, I feel myself being carried out of the bathroom in long, delicious, cologne-infused strides.

  “Please,” I whimper. “Let me go.”

  He doesn’t reply. He’s carrying me in loping movements. I nuzzle my face into him and breathe in his sexy scent, my clit burning with
intense arousal. This is incredible.

  “Who are you? Why are you here?” I shout. Oh, God, he smells good. I’m already twitching with desire.

  I hear a door opening. The sound of shoes on hard cement. There’s the sound of a car door opening followed by the sensation of my body being laid down in an extremely small space. Oh fuck, no—Josh isn’t putting me in the trunk of his car, is he? Oh shit.

  “From Justin to Kelly!” I shriek.

  His movement freezes.

  “You’re not putting me in the trunk of a car, are you?”

  “No, babe,” Josh’s voice says soothingly. “I’m laying you down in the backseat of my Beemer.”

  I exhale. “Oh, okay. Whew. I get really claustrophobic—I should have mentioned that.”

  “Babe, I’d never put you in the trunk of a car. You could get hurt.”

  I exhale. “Okay. Whew.”

  “Babe. Come on. I’ll never risk your safety.”

  I exhale with relief again. “Okay. Good. Thank you. Proceed.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m great.” I grin. “This is so awesome, Josh. Oh my God. When you burst into the bathroom, I had a freaking heart attack.”

  He laughs. “You should have seen the look on your face. Sorry if I scared you.”

  “No, no, it was a good kind of scared. I loved it. My panties are already soaked—or, then again, maybe that’s pee.”

  He laughs. “Okay, you ready to keep going now?”

  “Yeah. Sorry I pulled the safe word so fast. I won’t do it again.”

  “No, no. Use the safe word as much as you need. That’s what it’s for. I never want you to be scared. This is supposed to be fun.”

  I exhale. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Don’t hesitate to use it if you need it, babe.”

  “Okay.” I shake it off. “No more breaking character. Go, baby. I’m already totally wet for you.”

  He makes a sexual sound. “Don’t tempt me to fuck you right here—I’m rock hard.” His fingertips graze my thigh and slip inside my undies and then right into me. “Oh my God,” he says. “You’re soaking wet.” His fingers massage me for a moment, making me writhe and moan.

  I spread my legs, inviting him to fuck me right here and now.

  “Oh my God,” he says. “What am I doing? I’ve got a whole thing planned, babe. Stop being evil.”

  His fingers retreat from me, leaving me aching and wanting more.

  I hear the unmistakable sound of him licking his finger vigorously. “You taste like sugar, baby. So sweet.”

  My clit jolts. “Josh,” I breathe. “Take me now.”

  “Patience, babe,” he says, his voice low and sexy. “You’re in for a wild ride.” The car door shuts and a moment later, I hear a car engine start.

  We’re unmistakably on the move.

  After a few minutes of driving, music suddenly blares in the car—Britney Spears, “I’m a Slave 4 U”—and I burst out laughing.

  Josh’s laughter joins mine.

  “Hilare,” I say. “You’re so funny, babe.”

  “Hey, you didn’t say From Justin to Kelly,” Josh says. “You gotta stay in character unless you say it.”

  “There’s no way I can stay in character if you’re gonna make ‘I’m a Slave 4 U’ the soundtrack of my abduction into sexual slavery.”

  “Just to be clear, there’s no other circumstance when I’d ever play this song—this song is a testament to just how far I’ll go for a laugh.”

  “Mission accomplished,” I say.

  “Okay, back in character now.” The song switches to “Fever” by the Black Keys.

  I sigh happily. “This is so frickin’ awesome.”

  After what seems like forever, the car stops and the engine turns off. The driver’s door opens—and then the car door nearest to me—and then I’m being lifted up by strong arms and carried like a sack of potatoes, my cuffed wrists dangling down.

  Josh stops walking and shifts my body weight slightly. There’s a beeping sound, and then the sound of a door opening. He walks several paces and it’s clear to me we’re now indoors.

  Josh sets me down gently onto my feet. I wobble slightly—the blackness of my blindfold is disorienting—and he grasps my forearm just above my cuffs to steady me.

  “You okay?” he whispers.

  I nod.

  “Hang on.” I sense him moving away briefly and then returning to me. He grasps my forearm again and guides my body down. “Kneel,” he commands at full voice, his tone menacing. My knees are met with a soft cushion. “I saw you walking down the sidewalk last week and I had to have you,” he continues in his bad-guy voice. “I’ve brought you to a place far from civilization where no one can hear you scream. Do as I say or else—” He stops for a long beat. “Hey, babe. From Justin to Kelly. I can’t do this part. It’s making me think about my mom. I feel sick.”

  My stomach drops into my toes. “Oh, I didn’t even think about that. I’m so sorry. Take off my blindfold.”

  “No, I’ll be okay as long as we skip this first part. Let’s just pretend I said all the shit necessary to get you under control—that I already crushed your spirit like a sex-slave-master would and made you totally submissive to me. Okay?”

  “Are you sure? We can stop.”

  “No, I’m good as long as we skip this first part. I don’t wanna threaten you.”

  “Okay. No problem. But if you decide you wanna stop, just lemme know.”

  “Okay.” He exhales. “God, I wish you could see your nipples under your dress right now. They’re like little bullets. So fucking sexy.”

  I lick my lips.

  “Hey, why don’t we get some music cranking?” he says. “That’ll help loosen things up. Hang on.”

  I remain on my knees in the blackness, my cuffed arms dangling in front of me, wondering where the hell he’s taken me.

  After a brief moment, an old-school funk song fills my ears.

  I feel Josh’s body heat next to me again. “‘Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself,’” Josh says. “Sly and the Family Stone—greatest funk band ever.”

  I’ve never heard this song before, but it’s definitely got a great groove—my body’s already involuntarily pulsing to the beat—and I can’t imagine a better song to kick off our mutual sick-fuckedness than a tune called, “Thank You For Letting Me Be Myself.”

  I hear the sound of Josh’s fly unzipping. “Open your mouth,” he grunts.

  I do as I’m told and warm flesh unexpectedly whacks me in the mouth. I flinch out of surprise.

  “Lick my balls,” he growls softly.

  I smile. That was an extremely porno-y thing to say, especially with this awesome bow-chick-a-wow-wow-music blaring around us. And that’s exactly what I wanted—to star in my own porno. Hell yeah. I stick out my tongue and do as I’m told—well, as best I can, anyway—I must say, without the use of my eyes or hands to help me with my task, licking and sucking on balls feels a bit like bobbing for dangling apples—but after a few minutes, I get the hang of it (snicker) and really start delivering some seriously excellent ball-licking-and-sucking, if I do say so myself.

  “Good,” Josh says after several minutes, his voice ragged. “Congratulations. You’ve just earned the right to suck my cock.”

  My clit flutters. “Thank you, sir,” I purr. I open my mouth. It’s watering with anticipation. Being Josh’s slave is turning me on every bit as much as I fantasized it would.

  I feel the sensation of Josh’s wet tip resting against the subtle cleft in my chin (surprise!), followed by his shaft sliding into my open mouth, all the way to the back of my throat—so far, my eyes bug out behind my blindfold. Holy motherfucking shitballs. Good lord, that’s a lot of dick all at once.

  My throat closes up and I gag.

  “Relax,” Josh coos, running his hands through my hair. “Take a deep breath and relax your throat.”

  I breathe through my nose and focus on releasing my throat muscl
es, and sure enough, my throat opens up and Josh’s cock slides farther into me. Holy Big Dick, Batman, Josh is so far inside my throat, I can’t do a damned thing but sit here like a blowup-doll. This ain’t no Katherine Morgan Ultimate Blowjob Experience, folks—this is nothing but Crack Whore Blowjob. I’m just a warm hole, for crying out loud—no skill or finesse required for this job. I can’t suck or lick or swirl my tongue or finger or massage or do any of my other tricks. I could be anyone, really. Anything. It’s demeaning, I tell you—dehumanizing. And I love it.

  Josh lets out a particularly sexy sound and my body begins clenching furiously in reply—but my throat is so filled up, I barely make a sound.

  He’s rippling in my mouth. He’s gonna blow. Oh my God. This is so effing sexy.

  But, nope. He doesn’t come. He pulls out of my mouth, instead.

  I cough and sputter, trying to calm my raging throat muscles.

  I can hear Josh breathing heavily. “Since you sucked my dick so well,” he says, his voice ragged, “I’m gonna reward you by taking off your blindfold now.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I squeak out in a scratchy voice. Oh my God. My throat is throbbing.

  Josh’s fingers slide into my hair and then, suddenly, the blindfold is off.

  “Holy shitballs,” I say, looking around and blinking in the soft light. “What the... ?”

  “This is my lair,” Josh says, obviously trying (but failing) to suppress a huge grin.

  Oh my effing God, we’re in a bona fide sex-dungeon—a glittering, gleaming BDSM dungeon like nothing I’ve ever seen or even imagined. I knew places like this existed, but this place is... well, out of a fantasy.

  It’s a large, windowless room with black marble floors. The walls are painted a deep chocolate brown. Gold and crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, along with an eye-popping assortment of cages, harnesses, whips, chains, pulleys, racks, and other suspended contraptions I couldn’t identify if my life depended on it. There’s an X-shaped, padded rack in the middle of the room. A system of pulleys in the far corner next to a bunch of studded leather straps. A neatly arranged assortment of leather riding crops and feathered rods sits prominently in the middle of the room. Oh, shit, what’s that spherical cage-thing hanging from the ceiling? It looks like a birdcage for a very, very large canary.