[Enthrall Sessions 01.0] Enthrall

by Vanessa Fewings

  He added milk to my coffee and gave me one of the mugs. “Let’s have lunch together.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He took his drink and headed out.

  I clutched the diary to my chest, wondering why I’d not challenged him. Yes, he liked to be the one to lead in a relationship but I had an opinion too. I had desires to explore, and right now I felt him pushing me away again. I cursed myself for sabotaging today with my snooping.

  Opening the appointment book, I ran my fingertip over where he’d put a line through my name under his 11:00 A.M. and lowered my gaze.

  Richard had written my name against his 6:00 P.M. designation. Only this one he’d written in pen.

  CHAPTER 26

  RICHARD’S GAZE HELD MINE with a fierce intensity.

  Unable to wait any longer, I had headed on into his office for my 6:00 P.M. with him. I stood before his desk wearing my Frederick’s corset, lace-top stockings, and thong, as well as these six-inch black heels that finished off my sexy-siren look. My hair cascaded over bare shoulders, tussled curls falling softly over the curve of my breasts. In the spa I’d taken my time doing my make-up, using black eyeliner to bold my eyes and applying eye shadow, going for a smoky effect. Mascara lengthened my lashes and plump bright red lips distanced me from the old Mia.

  Richard pushed himself to his feet and made his way around to my side.

  “I’m early,” I said nervously.

  “That’s unacceptable.” He looked indignant. “I made an appointment for you tonight as there’s something I’d like to discuss.”

  Feeling awkward and disappointed he’d not mentioned my outfit, I crumbled inside.

  Richard reached for a check on his desk and held it up. “Well?”

  I read the signature. “I don’t know why Monsieur Trourville would want to give me…”

  “A thousand dollars? The memo has your name on it,” he said sternly. “Something you’d like to share with me, Mia?”

  “There was that time…”

  Richard narrowed his gaze.

  I raised my hand. “No, listen—”

  “You can be assured I’m listening.”

  “Monsieur Trourville saw me distressed and mistook it for me wearing those thingys.”

  “Venus balls? Were you?”

  My face flushed brightly. “No.”

  A ghost of a smile swept over his face. “Why were you distressed?”

  “Because you took Courtney into…”

  “What about it upset you?”

  “It wasn’t me. I wanted it to be me.”

  His frown deepened. “I need to decide what to do with this.” He stared at the check. “You’ve put me in a very difficult position.”

  Despite wearing this corset, he’d managed to make me feel naked.

  “You do realize alcohol is forbidden?” His gaze was on the open bottle of champagne that rested on the side table. The one I’d snuck in half an hour earlier. Endless bubbles rose in those two ornamental flutes I’d borrowed from his shelf.

  He sighed. “They’re antique.”

  “They’re beautiful,” I said. “It’s a shame not to use them.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “They came from Winston Churchill’s estate. I don’t use them.”

  “I thought it might steady my nerves.”

  He really did have an obsession with Churchill. I wondered what else in his office or even home pertained to the man. There was no way I would enjoy that drink now. I’d be worried I’d drop the glass.

  Something in his eyes…

  A flitter of nerves burst from my chest. A smoldering need burned between my thighs and my eyelids grew heavy.

  “Entering subspace so quickly?” he said. “Impressive.”

  My mind raced to grasp his meaning.

  Richard moved away and reached for one of the glasses. “I want you aroused. Alcohol suppresses you. I will permit one final freedom.” He handed me the champagne flute.

  I took the glass by the stem, holding it with the reverence it deserved, and took a sip.

  One final freedom.

  I went for another.

  He eased the glass out of my hand. “Enough.”

  My gaze stayed on the champagne as though it was my last ever drink.

  “You must trust me,” he said. “Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  He curled his fingers and traced my chin and downward, pausing on my throat. “Your heart’s racing.” He gave a look of approval.

  I was breathing way too fast. My breasts strained against this corset, threatening to burst out of their confinement. His fingers caressed the line of my bustier, causing my skin to tingle. A shiver of apprehension went through me as feelings flooded in that were hard to make sense of.

  “It’s called a frisson.” He rested his hand over the exact spot where I felt the tingles.

  I glanced at where his hand was. “But how…?”

  “I’m your dom. It’s my job to know.” He looked intense. “Your safe word. Should you want me to stop, you’ll say a word.” He swept his hand through the air. “Choose something you’ll remember.”

  My thoughts scattered.

  He gave a smile of approval. “Venus?”

  “Okay.”

  “Think you can remember that?”

  “Yes.” Though really I had no idea if I’d be able to. I hoped stop may also do the trick.

  This wasn’t the Richard I knew. He’d taken on a masterful demeanor. “Remember what I told you about the elevator?” he said. “What does it represent?”

  “Surrender.”

  “Am I assured yours?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know what enthrall means?” he said.

  “Mesmerize.”

  “Enslave.”

  A stirring of desire took me over.

  “It’s time for your punishment.” He rested his hand on the arch of my spine.

  And led me out.

  I found comfort in the strength of Richard’s hand gripping mine. Stealing a glance at my desk, I became aware I was no longer that naive girl who had begun her journey there. A world of pleasure had always been waiting for me on the other side of this gate.

  We stepped into the elevator.

  Descending, there really did come the sense of surrendering.

  Once out, I sauntered elegantly behind him, my pace slow and deliberate, wanting to emphasize I really was ready for this, but unsure how far he’d push me.

  Punish me.

  Walking through the main chamber, we soon passed the crisscrossed board that Cameron had strapped me to.

  “Next time I bring you down here,” he said, disrupting my thoughts as he opened a door to a smaller room, “you will wear a collar.”

  A rush of excitement hit me as I realized I truly was his submissive.

  Despite being smaller, this room was similar to the one we’d left behind. The walls were painted a deep red and candles were scattered here and there, throwing shadows. Upon the central table hung fine silver chains.

  We were bathed in soft red lighting. Time slowed as I took it all in.

  “It’s called a St. Andrew’s Cross,” he said, having caught me staring. “Bring back memories?”

  I reveled in these unseen sparks shooting between us.

  “Take off your panties,” he said.

  I stared down at my trembling hands.

  He tucked his into his trouser pockets. “Can I be any clearer?”

  My breaths were faster than they should have been, and I merely stood there as waves of lightheadedness provided a sense of unraveling.

  He stepped closer. “Obey.”

  I slipped off my thong, allowing it to drop to my ankles, and he rescued my underwear from the floor then tucked them in his trouser pocket. With a nod, he ordered me over to the table. He took his time to roll up each shirt sleeve.

  A tilt of his head. “Need I tell you again?”

  I approached the table and, with both hands
, gripped the edge.

  This man was proud, complex, and oh so beautiful, and I was about to witness what he was capable of.

  What I was capable of.

  Richard pulled me back so that my buttocks shifted out a little from the table, readying me.

  “I want to look at you.” He arched my spine and prized my cheeks apart. “Beautiful arse, Mia.” He rimmed the puckered hole with a fingertip. “One day I’ll fuck you here.”

  My grip tightened on the edge.

  He slapped my buttock. “But not today.”

  The dull ache between my thighs made me swoon as the sting lingered. With a firm grip, he shifted my butt higher and forced me to arch my back farther. “Part your legs. Yes, like that. Good. What is to follow has been deemed that which you deserve.” He traced a fingertip along the spine of my corset and then gathered locks of hair, twisting it around his hand. “Am I clear?”

  “Yes.”

  He raised my chin.

  “Yes, sir,” I said quickly.

  “Better.”

  This yearning for him was so intense, a desire to please in any way he wanted. I was a slave to him, to his love, and willingly gave myself over.

  “Wrists together,” he said.

  He showed a pair of handcuffs and swiftly secured my wrists within each band and snapped them shut. Shocked and excited by this confinement, my heart raced and blood thundered in my ears. He’d stepped away from my line of sight, forcing me to endure being bound and exposed while my anticipation built. Richard grabbed the bar between my handcuffs and dragged me farther down, straining my arms out in front of me and securing them to the silver chains at the end.

  “This perfect ass is begging to be spanked.” He slapped me hard. “All in good time.” His hand slid between my thighs, caressing my cleft and exploring farther, fingering me.

  Groaning, I rocked my hips against his hand.

  “Did I give you permission to move?” He withdrew his fingers.

  I groaned my disappointment. “No, sir.”

  “Lift your head.” He eased those moist fingers into my mouth. “Suck.”

  My lips quivered as I tasted myself and a wave of pleasure flooded my groin. Another moan escaped me and I dragged my teeth along his fingers as he pulled them out of my mouth.

  “This flirting with clients must cease.”

  I turned my head toward him to protest.

  He slapped my buttock hard. “You were going to say something?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Do not speak without permission. Understand?”

  I buried my face between my arms.

  “This is a cat-o-nine-tails.” Richard grasped a fist of my hair and raised my head so I could see it. “Is it a suitable punishment?” he asked. “You may answer.”

  “Yes, sir.” When I caught sight of the short multi-tailed black whip I buried my head again.

  He dragged the tassels along my calves and across my thighs before tapping it over my sex and causing it to flinch. The lashes hit my buttocks in a continuous rhythm and I jolted forward to escape them. With a strong arm around my waist, he repositioned me. The strikes resumed one after the other and I gritted my teeth, the stun of the whip intense, my body quivering, my trembling fingers curling around the chains.

  Forgetting time and place, this momentum bestowed flashes of insight with each lash, sending me into a trance.

  It felt so good.

  Standing upright now and free from the chains, yet still cuffed, I swooned from this rush of excitement making me shake uncontrollably. There was no time to savor this. I was too busy trying to keep up with him as he pulled me toward the wall, his ironclad grip forcing me to stay beside him. He positioned me to stand with my back straight against the brick. When my sore buttocks touched the coldness, I sucked in my breath.

  “Hands above your head,” he said.

  With my handcuffed wrists held high, my arms felt the tension of this pose. Easing down the material of my corset, Richard cupped my right nipple. He rested it on top of the lace and did the same with the left. He tweaked my nipples firmly, causing shivers of pleasure.

  “Oh, please,” I moaned.

  “Silence.” He tweaked some more.

  My jaw slackened, my breathing grew shallow. I pouted my pleasure and lowered my cuffed hands to reach for him.

  His glare forced me to raise my arms again.

  “Better,” he said.

  Every movement set me up for a punishment yet staying still was impossible.

  “You’re doing well,” he said. “But there’s room for improvement.”

  My eyelids fluttered shut.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I was greeted by his fierce blue gaze.

  Hold your hands out.” He unclipped the handcuffs and removed them, dropping them to the floor. “Hands behind your back.”

  Richard reached into his pocket and removed a silver clamp. He pinched my right nipple, working its pertness and closing the clasp over it. The pinch made me shudder and forced a groan from me.

  “Hush.”

  He secured a clamp to the other nipple too and gave it a tug, shooting pleasure into my groin. I turned my head toward him wanting, needing, to be kissed.

  “You have to deserve that.” He turned me around so that I faced the wall and he positioned my hands out in front of me.

  “Use your hands for leverage,” he said, leaving my side.

  With my fingers splayed on the brick, I leaned my weight against my arms and glanced back. I caught sight of the paddle.

  He neared me. “Did you move without permission?”

  “Yes, sir.” I bit my lip, hard.

  “Why?”

  “To see what you were going to do, sir.”

  “How about I show you.”

  Oh…

  My breaths were faster now, my legs trembling, my nipples straining against their silver captors.

  “You may have noticed I don’t like asking twice,” he said.

  I arched my back and pushed out my buttocks just as I’d done on the table. Every part of me wanted this, needed this, and there came an unfamiliar desire to fall at his feet, beg for forgiveness. Beg for more.

  The whack to my butt came hard and I flew forward. He waited until I’d repositioned myself and then gave twenty or so slow gentle pats over where he’d struck me.

  Another fierce strike.

  “I’m waiting for you not to move.” Richard ran his fingers over my butt. “I need to see you deserve your reward.”

  Bracing, I offered myself, wanting that slow burn of each strike that somehow made my clit deliciously pulse. The paddle came down hard and yet this time I managed not to flinch, instead remaining still, obeying. He dropped the paddle and wrapped his arm around my waist. His hand slid over my belly and down, his fingers finding me and expertly playing with that sweetest place.

  “You like your reward?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He stopped.

  “Sir.”

  Richard’s hand slid over my buttocks, caressing the flesh and softening the sting. I let out a long moan.

  “Back into position,” he commanded.

  It felt easier this time knowing what followed was a mind-blowing reward, if only I could remain still. Richard used the paddle again. Another strike, and another, but I so wanted my reward I buried all resistance.

  He turned me around so that my back was now against the wall. My skin felt flushed and sensitive. He eased himself between me and the wall so that it was his back that met the brick and mine was against his muscular front, pulled into a hug. Richard’s left hand reached for my groin and he eased apart my nether lips, exposing me. Proficiently holding me in this delicate pose, he used his right hand to bestow erotic slaps to my clit, and my cries responded to these shockwaves of bliss.

  A dazzling throbbing. “Oh, please,” I moaned.

  “Silence, Mia.”

  My mewling echoed as he prolonged my indulgence by tim
ing split-second pauses between each slap, perfectly maintaining this exquisite throb. With each one my body shuddered, anticipating the next, and the next, and the next…

  Enthralled, I gave myself over completely.

  Unrelenting, he continued to spank my pussy, sending seamless charges of pleasure through it, and I reveled in the sound of his slaps. The soprano sang ever higher, notes lifting and falling, dancing around us and sharing our intimacy.

  Ecstasy.

  The slapping ceased and his fingers took on their own rhythm, flickering faster, sending me over the edge and beyond. My orgasm shuddered through me as air snatched from my lungs, shattering me into a million pieces of nothingness.

  Richard held me still until those last few shudders left me and I could breathe again, my strength barely returning to my wobbly legs. I wanted to turn and bury my head in his chest but Richard slid out from behind me, his expression of sternness not changing.

  The nipple clamps came off and he guided me back over to the table where he lifted me up, my legs dangling over the side.

  “You’ve been a good girl,” he said, ripping a condom packet open. “Time to be rewarded.”

  Though not sure if I could take any more pleasure, my gaze fell upon Richard’s cock, which was rock hard, and I yearned for it to be inside of me. He nudged me back so that I lay staring up at the ceiling and he lay upon me, grabbing my hands and easing them above my head.

  My back arched when he entered me, tight and full, all the way to the hilt. The pleasure of his first thrust lessening the pain of this inner tautness. My channel tightened around his thickness and rippled with pleasure.

  “You belong to me, Mia.”

  “Yes, sir.” I wrapped my legs around him. “Yours.”

  He thundered above, sending delicious spasms into me and my back arched. My moans were suppressed only by his kiss.

  Notes came and went, taking us with them and I closed my eyes, extracting nothing but fulfillment from having Richard master me completely. This searing pleasure rose ever higher.

  “Wait for my permission,” he said.

  Blinded by these sensations, I tried to obey, really I did, but it was so hard to concentrate and I knew I was dangerously close. Richard perfected his pace, slamming against me, the sound of our sex slapping together.

  Drenched in a wet heat, his face was focused and fierce, his pupils dilated as he took on a brutish pace.