by Moore, Lila
“I went back to The Red Room,” I blurted out.
He turned his head to the side incredulously. I knew this was not what he wanted to hear, but I continued on anyway.
“I wanted to see what-if anything-happened to Ivy. Your friend at the mansion works quickly. She was demoted. She works alongside the girls now, putting on shows and whatnot.”
Alex was still watching closely, an angry look on his face.
“I didn’t hook up with any guys if that’s what you’re wondering. I went to the club to see about Ivy.”
“Why do you care about what happens to Ivy?” he asked.
“I wanted to make sure she was out of the picture, that she wasn’t a threat to you or me.”
“And now you’re free to write your article.”
“Yes, but more importantly I don’t have to worry about our relationship being used as a weapon against you.”
“You should have come to me. Ivy played on your naïveté. She knew that if you approached me, I’d go to Mr. Hirst. He doesn’t tolerate blackmail, or any sort of foolish games.”
Mr. Hirst must have been the thin man from the mansion, the one who ran everything.
“And now you’re banned from ever returning to the big house,” he added. “Not that I’m upset about that. You had no business being up there to begin with.”
“You didn’t seem disappointed to see me on stage.”
He took a step towards me.
“You think I didn’t have a problem watching someone else dominate you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, what are we doing? First, you introduce me to BDSM, then you tell me to stay away. Then you want to be my Dom, but you don’t want to tell me anything about the people in that world-many of which turned out to be dangerous. And now you hate me.”
My voice started to shake. I hated myself for being on the verge of tears, but the stress of the last week was catching up to me.
Alex uncrossed his arms and stepped forward.
“You’re right. This is my fault. I should have protected you.”
“I didn’t mean that everything is your fault. I’ve certainly played my part.”
It made me angry to admit it, but Alex was right: I’d been naïve.
“I should have known better than to think I could just walk into a world where I don’t belong,” I said.
It wasn’t just the BDSM world I didn’t fit into; it was Alex’s world as well.
“You won’t hear from me again,” I said. “I’m done with the clubs and the mansions. Once my story’s published, I’m done with all of it.”
“That’s not what I want-and I don’t hate you. I wish I hated you. It would make things easier.” He ran his hands through his hair and walked to the window. “I know I can’t stop you from publishing your story. But for your own good, you need to leave out what you saw at the mansion. No mention of Mr. Hirst or any of his patrons. If you threaten his business, he’ll see that you end up somewhere worse than you can ever imagine.”
“I won’t talk about the mansion,” I said.
It felt like a huge concession. The meatiest part of my story involved the mansion. I’d prepared for this possibility though. I’d have to submit the censored version of my story to my editor.
I turned away from Alex, training my gaze on the city. He took my chin and forced me to look at him.
“I don’t know if it makes a difference,” he said, “but I do believe you. You were trying to protect me when I should have been the one protecting you. I just wished you would have trusted me enough to come to me first.”
“I’m sorry.”
It didn’t feel like the time for excuses. A tiny spark of hope had ignited inside me. Maybe Alex and I still had a chance? I didn’t want to blow it by making lame excuses.
“Promise me you won’t go back to The Red Room?”
“I promise.”
“You have to be honest with me.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, slipping back into my role as his Sub.
“No. Don’t say that. Just talk to me like a real person.”
“The truth is… I want you, but I want my career too.”
“You can have both.”
“If you knew my editor, you might think differently.”
“It will work out. I’ll help you. I know people who work in the media. If you lose your job over this I’ll find you a new one.”
I should have been grateful to have Alex’s connections, but I felt irritated.
“It’s not that simple. I want to succeed on my own without my family’s connections.”
Referring to Alex as family made me cringe. He was family, but he was also my Dom. Or at least I hoped he was still my Dom. I didn’t want to think of him as my stepbrother anymore.
“There’s only so much I can do to protect you from Mr. Hirst. Keep that in mind when you write your story.”
“Who protects you?” I asked.
“What happens when word gets out about us?”
“My colleagues would be wise not to pass judgment. They’re far from being saints. If word of their indiscretions were to leak it would devastate them. And trust me-they’ve got more skeletons in their closets than I do. Besides, I’ve made Mr. Hirst a lot of money. It’s to his advantage to ensure my reputation and business connections stay in place. Assuming, you don’t destroy his business.”
“I wouldn’t do anything that hurt you.”
“You have to trust me.”
“I do.”
My eyes started to cloud with tears. I didn’t want Alex to see me cry. I tried to turn away, but soon found myself in his arms.
“I won’t let you get hurt,” he whispered.
His mouth was close to my ear. If I turned my head slightly, our lips would meet. Would he return my kiss? As if reading my mind, he lifted my chin. His mouth found mine slowly. Hesitantly, our lips came together. It was as if we were each afraid of scaring the other away. Our lips barely touched.
We pulled away from each other, then met again. He kissed me hard, running his tongue over my lips. His hand slid down my back to my ass. He squeezed hard.
I moaned with a mixture of desire and pain. I was still sore from our last encounter.
Alex squeezed my ass harder. I bit his lip playfully.
Suddenly, he was pulling me away from the window and up the stairs. My heart raced. We walked past an open door. I peeked inside. It was obviously the master bedroom. Where was Alex leading me?
We moved quickly down a long, white hallway. The walls were strangely blank, devoid of any artwork. I felt like I was walking down a hall in a doctor’s office.
Finally, we approached a door with a keycode security system. Alex entered the code. The door opened with a hiss as if it was electrical. We stepped inside and were flooded with red light. The room was designed similarly to the infamous Red Rooms except this room was somehow sleeker and more modern looking.
Every surface was polished and shiny. Whips, handcuffs and various sex toys hung from hooks on the wall, or were locked up inside display cases as if they were prized museum artifacts.
The room appeared to have everything you could ever want out of a BDSM encounter. It made me wonder why Alex bothered with The Red Room at all. Maybe he liked the dirty environment, or the club girls. A spark of jealousy ignited in my stomach.
“I promised you I’d never return to The Red Room,” I said. “You have to promise me that you won’t return either.”
“As long as we’re together we belong to each other. I won’t return. But you have to promise me something in return.”
“What?”
Dread filled my stomach. I had a bad feeling that I was about to make another big concession.
“You have to break up with your boyfriend.”
“What?”
Then I remembered: the night Alex and I met in the kitchen of my mother and stepfather’s home. I’d been wearing boxers and Alex assumed they belonged to my boyfriend. I started to lau
gh.
“Why is that funny?” he asked.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I just let you think that to make you jealous.”
“I don’t get jealous.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. You are the most possessive man I’ve ever known.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Do you want to fight or do you want to fuck?”
That shut me up quickly. The answer was obvious.
“That’s what I thought,” he said with a smile.
“Don’t get smug,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Take off your clothes.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, easing back into my role as his Submissive like it was a second skin.
I took off my coat, tossing it to the floor. I kicked off my boots and shimmied out of my jeans. It wasn’t easy to undress in a sexy fashion when you’re wearing practical cold weather clothing.
Alex watched me struggle with my sweater with a smile on his face.
“Shut up,” I said, even though he hadn’t said anything.
Finally, I stood before him in my underwear. At least I’d chosen to put on my sexiest bra and panties today.
“Do you approve, Master?” I asked.
I turned in a circle before him.
“Very nice,” he said.
Alex spanked my ass and told me to walk to the center of the room. I looked around anxiously. I felt like a kid in a candy store. Where would we begin?
Alex walked past me and opened a drawer. He reached in and pulled out a long, black silk blindfold. The red light cast a strange glare on the silky fabric. It looked like a dead snake in his hands.
He slid the blindfold around my eyes and tied it tightly behind my head. My world went dark.
With one quick motion, my bra fell loose. Alex’s fingers passed along my side and over my curves, before stopping at my hip. He ripped my underwear, tearing them from my body.
I jumped at the violence of the motion. Then suddenly something light and airy was passing over my breasts and down my stomach. It felt like feathers. The tenderness of the gesture was startling.
The way Alex took me from one extreme to another left me edgy in the best possible way. I never knew what was coming next. It heightened my senses; the slightest touch left me trembling.
The room was cold. A chill racked my body. I stood completely exposed before Alex; I was his for the taking.
Rough leather brushed against my skin. At first, I thought it was a riding crop, but as it closed in around my neck, I realized it was a collar. A heavy chain hung from the front of it. I felt it lift and knew that Alex was holding it.
“On your knees,” he ordered.
I dropped down a bit too roughly. Pain shot through my knees. I was excited and on edge. I needed Alex to take control.
He pulled the collar and I lurched forward onto all-fours. Alex’s fingers were in my hair, twisting it in his fist. He pulled my neck back.
“Are you going to be a good, obedient girl, or am I going to have to punish you?”
I wanted to be punished so badly I could practically taste it, but asking for punishment made the game less exciting. I had to defy him.
“I’ll be good,” I said, intentionally leaving out the obligatory, ‘Yes, sir.’
A belt cracked against my backside. My provocation had worked. I smiled slyly.
“You think it’s funny?” he asked.
“No,” I said, again omitting the, ‘sir.’
His belt found me twice more. The leather was rough and worn; it left a stinging, bite. I sighed with deep pleasure.
“No more, please,” I said, feigning indignation. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. I had a hard time playing the part of hapless victim. The hunger I felt for the lash was impossible to hide. He struck me three more times.
“Sir,” he said once the whipping had stopped.
“Yes, sir.”
I was breathless; the words came out weak. My throat was already raw from crying out and we’d only just started.
Alex pulled my leash, leading me to the other side of the room. Unable to see, I followed him blindly. It was slow going. The floor was cold and hard; my knees scraped across it painfully.
Finally, we came to a stop. I heard a drawer open, then a faint hum. Suddenly, Alex was behind me, pulling my leash tight. My head jerked up. I could feel his hot breath on my neck.
“When you defy your Master, you get punished,” he said. “Do you understand me?”
Before I could answer, a large vibrator was pressed between my legs. Alex moved it over my pussy forcefully. My hips started to sway uncontrollably.
“Do you understand me?” he said again.
“Yes, sir,” I spat out the words quickly in between my cries of pleasure.
“You’re a good pet, aren’t you?” he said.
I didn’t respond, or more accurately couldn’t. My body writhed as the vibrator pressed against my clit. The humming stopped and the vibrator moved away. I was trembling and breathing hard when I felt the ropes snake around my hips. They were made of a rough twine that cut into my skin, rubbing it raw.
Somehow, Alex kept one hand on the leash while tying me up. The rope crisscrossed across my back and between my legs. I could feel an intricate pattern emerging. I desperately wanted to take off my blindfold and see it, but I knew this was not what Alex wanted.
As Alex wove his rope design around me, I couldn’t help feeling like a fly trapped in a spider web.
With a final pass between my legs, he tied off the ropes. A large knot rested on top of my clit. I tensed my muscles; the knot hit my g-spot perfectly. I gritted my teeth and groaned through the strange mixture of pleasure and pain radiating between my legs.
The leash fell slack. Alex’s hands gripped my hips. I arched my back and waited. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I wanted to feel him inside me so badly that I’d bitten my lip. I could taste blood on my tongue.
Alex picked up the leash and pulled my head back; his hand was between my legs, pressing the knot into my g-spot. I could feel his hard cock pushing against my backside. I was panting and writhing like a starved animal.
“Fuck me,” I begged.
He pulled my hair.
“You want to get fucked like a whore,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, but I responded with a strained, “Yes, sir.”
Suddenly his cock was inside me. The ropes dug into my back and thighs. Every time he drove his cock into me my body was pushed forward, causing the ropes to tighten. The coarse material burned my skin with every thrust.
With one hand he held my leash; with the other, he spanked me. I was blind to his presence. Not being able to see enhanced the bite of every sensation. My pussy pulsed with the force of his thrusts; warmth radiated through my breasts and between my legs. The competing sensations were overwhelming. If not for Alex’s firm hand, I don’t think I could have handled it.
He dropped my leash and focused on fucking me. He pumped into me quickly. I leaned into him, challenging him to fuck me harder. He didn’t need an invitation; his body rocked against mine, harder and harder until we both reached our breaking point.
We came together.
I nearly fell over from exhaustion. Alex wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. I leaned against him while trying to catch my breath. He pulled on one of the rope’s knots. It fell away from my body, slack.
Alex then removed my blindfold. The first thing I saw was the red marks cutting across my skin. I traced the grooves with my fingers. Alex took my hand. Our eyes met; suddenly his mouth was on mine and we were falling into the darkness together.
7
Alex insisted I stay with him. He said he was worried for my safety, but I think he liked having me around. Living in his penthouse was certainly an upgrade from my previous living arrangements. Of course, I’d faced the awkwardness of explaining to my mother w
here I was moving to.
Alex had simply said, “She’s staying with me for a while.”
She’d nodded absently as if bored with the conversation. She’d never been very involved in my life and I doubted she planned on taking an interest anytime soon. In a way, it was a relief. I didn’t want to be judged for my relationship with Alex. He kept assuring me there was nothing to be concerned about, but as my story went to press I worried.
In my final story, I didn’t completely leave out my dalliance at the mansion. I glossed over a lot of the details while still heavily implying prostitution was a staple of these gatherings. It was the only compromise that pleased both my editor and Alex.
The day my piece was published I refused to leave Alex’s penthouse. Finally, he coaxed me into reading the comment section in the online edition. It had more comments than any article the newspaper had ever published.
Many of them were judgmental and cruel, but the majority was positive. People wanted to know more. This was both a blessing and a curse. My article was a hit, but the readers wanted more details.
I’d promise Alex I’d never go back to the club. I thought of his own private red room in his penthouse. There was still much to learn. Luckily, I had a Dom willing to teach me.
8
A week after my article was published Alex received a phone call from Mr. Hirst. He wanted to speak with the both of us immediately. Alex tried to downplay it as nothing, but I was scared.
We drove, not to the mansion, but to an office building downtown. Mr. Hirst’s agency was on the fifteenth floor of a skyscraper right in the middle of the financial district. I was a bit surprised, though it became obvious that his office was a front for his other work.
A secretary saw us in and shut the door behind her. Alex was dressed in a well-tailored, expensive looking suit. I couldn’t help enjoying the way it hugged his muscles and strong thighs. It was a welcome distraction from the imposing figure of Mr. Hirst. He entered the room with a stack of papers in his hands. He was looking over them when he sat down at his desk. He barely even considered us. It was like we weren’t even in the room.
It was then I noticed a newspaper tucked in between the reams of paper. I swallowed hard. I knew he’d read the article. He was on top of everything; it was only a matter of time before he read it.
