InvitingTheDevil

by Gabriella Bradley

  “Go, darling, go. Think about that gorgeous lover waiting for you,” Sheldon urged from somewhere behind me.

  I walked ahead, ignoring the spotlight, as it switched colors and followed me along the catwalk. I walked back, heard the whistles, the applause, the stomping of feet. Vaguely, I saw people standing up as they clapped and I made my way back to the stage. If I thought I was finished, I was mistaken. Who did I find waiting for me on the stage in his tight leather breeches, leather boots and wearing a white poet shirt slit to the waist? None other than Kalem. He had a whip in one hand and some sort of leather strap in the other. Joining me, he smiled down at me and clipped the leather strap to the ring on my collar. “Walk with me,” he said softly, but loud enough for me to hear.

  He tugged slightly, holding the strap and swishing the whip. I followed him. I was absolutely dumbfounded by this unexpected turn of events. He walked slow, swishing the whip every few seconds. It seemed to take forever before we reached the end of the catwalk then turned and headed back to the stage. When we got there, he pulled at the collar forcing me down to my knees. Sheldon hadn’t been kidding when he said I’d bring the house down with this dress. I felt sick suddenly and utterly humiliated. Yet I was horny as blazes. Had he ever performed like that with his other models?

  Kalem bowed. He tugged slightly at my collar and made me stand up. I inclined my head slightly as the applause continued. A full, bright white spotlight was trained on us. I was sure the audience could see right through my dress.

  Walking backward to the door, Kalem ushered me through. Sheldon was waiting.

  “My God, Kalem, you brought the house down with this gown,” he said.

  “I think who was in it brought the house down. You’ll wear this dress during the reception, Danea.”

  He expected me to walk among those people on full display? I shook my head and saw his eyes darken. I recalled his words, and the warnings I’d heard. Obey at all times. Okay. Who did I know here anyway? This was high society, they were people I’d never ever meet again. My face burned with shame. Kalem returned to the stage, but not until he told me, “I’ll see you later. Don’t leave with the other girls.”

  I noticed all the models wore the last dress they’d shown. Some were risqué, but none as revealing as mine.

  “You were great, girlfriend,” Odette said. “I don’t know if I would have dared.”

  “I’ve been told by Kalem and quite a few others that to disobey Kalem is to get fired in a hurry.”

  “Yes. Our contracts states it and we signed to that effect. I still don’t know if I would have dared.”

  “I made up my mind when I realized I don’t know any of those people and they don’t know me. I’ll never see any of them again.”

  “Your pictures will be all over the internet.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. “The only one I’d be concerned about is my mother and she doesn’t have a computer. Has Kalem ever performed like that with any of his models?”

  “Not as far as I know. He usually speaks after the show, but he’s never joined anyone on the catwalk. It’s quite unusual.”

  “I felt like a goddamn slave.”

  “Well, darling, you’ve heard of bondage, I presume?” Sheldon joined us.

  “Yes, but—”

  “That was the whole concept behind the black dress and this one.”

  “I got that picture when he led me down the catwalk as if I were a pet.”

  “You’d be surprised how many of the elite are into BDSM. There are dozens private clubs and they more than likely practice it in the privacy of their bedrooms. I bet orders tonight will hit an all-time high and each will want a dress exclusively designed for their woman, or in some cases, women. But come, they’ll be serving dinner soon.”

  Dinner? I doubted I could get a bite down my throat. I followed Odette and Sheldon to the ballroom. Sheldon led the way and stopped at Kalem’s table. “You’ll sit with Kalem, darling.” He pulled the chair out for me and I sat stiffly next to my supposed master.

  The people at Kalem’s table were all men, no women. They ogled me, gazes glued to my breasts. I felt terribly exposed, but managed to nod in acknowledgement as Kalem introduced me. “Gentlemen, my newest protégé, Danea Fitzgerald. A toast to her first show and a marvelous performance.”

  “I hate you,” I whispered tight-lipped from behind my glass of wine.

  “You loved every minute of it,” he retorted as he sipped his wine.

  I drank mine fast—too fast. A waiter hovered nearby and quickly refilled my glass. I downed the second glass, too. A languor entered me, almost an acceptance of what had occurred. It was over and the show had been a raging success. All due to me, according to Kalem, although I’m sure it would have been a success without me. I listened as he told the men how he’d discovered me and designed the three dresses especially for me. I should feel flattered. From what Odette had told me, he’d never lavished that kind of attention on any new model.

  Dinner was prime rib roast with garlic-mashed potatoes and a medley of fancy vegetables. When the delectable aroma of the meat and gravy entered my nostrils, I actually felt the first pangs of hunger. The wine had settled my nerves and stomach. While I ate, I wished Odette could have sat at our table. I felt a little lost among so many men. I counted six besides Kalem. Three of them were older men, the other three in their late thirties or early forties.

  I declined dessert and had another glass of wine. By then, I felt slightly giddy and I couldn’t help but get turned on by the lust I read in the other men’s eyes. I absorbed their admiration of my body like I was drinking the sweetest nectar. Shame no longer bothered me. Instead I felt something I’d never had, pride at my appearance, pride at my body.

  Kalem leaned toward me. “You need to slow down with the wine or I’ll have to carry you out of here.”

  I set my glass on the table and drank water instead. He was right. It was hard enough walking on the very high heels without being tipsy. The evening progressed much too slow. Now the show was over, I just wanted to go home and get out of the much-too-revealing dress.

  Kalem finally excused us from the table. “Gentlemen, it’s been wonderful, as always. It’s time for us to leave. Danea’s had a long grueling day and so have I. Goodnight.”

  That time he pulled the chair out for me as I stood and, taking me by the arm, he guided me out of the ballroom. The men rose as we walked away and I swayed my hips seductively reveling in the thought I’d probably made them all horny as hell. I giggled. Their wives or lady friends would have a good time that night.

  “What’s funny?” Kalem asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you in the habit of giggling for no reason?”

  I didn’t answer him. I was grateful he hadn’t hooked me to the leather leash, though I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  His personal limo was white. Supporting me as we walked down the steps, he helped me into it, then slid in beside me. I thought he’d drop me at home. Instead, we pulled up before another mansion.

  “Home, sweet home,” he said.

  “This is yours?”

  “Every square inch of it.”

  “I wanted to go home. I’m really tired and my feet are killing me.”

  “I’d like your company for a while. Do you mind?”

  Do I mind? I was still angry with him over the dress and the performance. Tell him you want to go home, a little voice nagged at me. No. I wanted to know why he desired my company. My curiosity and deep down desire to be with him, won.

  Chapter Five

  The exterior of his house was beautiful. House? It was a mansion. The interior was out of this world. His indoor pool was overly inviting, but if I wanted to keep the tan, I couldn’t swim. He must have noticed my longing expression.

  “There won’t be another show for some weeks now. We can go swimming later if you like. If you like the tan, you can go to the salon any time to get another treatment. Would you like some
thing to drink? I’ll order margaritas. Do you like them?”

  “Strawberry margaritas. Yum.”

  He’d led me into a large room. Exquisitely decorated, classy, yet comfortable and cozy at the same time. A wall of windows and sliding doors opened onto a large patio and an outdoor pool. He picked up a phone and I heard him give some orders.

  “You have staff on duty at night?”

  “Yes. Until three in the morning. Sometimes later, if I throw a party for some of my close friends. What do you think of my humble abode?”

  “Far from humble. It’s lavish, reeking of the rich and famous. I like it. It’s very tastefully decorated and still feels like a home.”

  “Make yourself comfortable. Actually, no, not yet. Now that I have you all to myself, I want to admire my creation. Walk for me.”

  “I’m still furious at you.”

  “Are you now?”

  His lazy drawl infuriated me. “Yes, how dare you display me like that then treat me as if I’m your slave.”

  “Whoa! Watch it. Remember the contract you signed.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

  “I expect full obedience.”

  “Why single me out?”

  “Because you’re perfection. You’ve shown qualities none of my other models have ever displayed.”

  “Right. Mousy Danea suddenly turned into a white swan. Wash off all the makeup and glamour, and it’s back to mousy me.”

  “My dear, you’re very down on yourself. Even without makeup and the glamour, you’re perfection. I saw it the moment you walked into my office that first day.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.”

  “I knew of some of your outlandish gowns, but the silver one really surpassed any I’ve seen pictures of.”

  “Did it ever. Now walk for me.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ll punish you.”

  “Like in your office?”

  “Mm, yes, maybe. Do you want to find out?”

  I tightened my lips and walked to the open patio doors, then back toward him.

  “Stand still.”

  “Perfect. Though the dress is gossamer spun silk, it held together nicely. I love the tan. It really brings out the color of your eyes.”

  I tried to read his expression. Admiration? No. They were unfathomable, deep mysterious black pools. My feelings were mixed. I was with the man I’d dreamed about for so long, but I felt like running fast and far. I hadn’t forgotten what I’d read about him or my vivid dream. I giggled as I conjured horns coming out of his skull.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t like being laughed at. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you have a bad habit of giggling out of the blue.”

  “I was laughing at myself.” Okay, it was sort of true.

  “Turn for me.”

  I turned several times, the flared skirt swishing around my ankles. A young woman dressed in black wearing a white apron and carrying a tray with a pitcher filled with margarita, two margarita glasses and a platter of snacks, came into the living room.

  “Your margaritas, sir, and the snacks you asked for.”

  “Thank you, Mary. You and cook are dismissed for the night.”

  “Is there anything else you need, sir, before we leave?”

  “No, we’re fine. Off you go.”

  “Do they live here?” I asked.

  “On the property. Not in the house. Take the dress off.”

  “What?”

  “Take the dress off. I don’t want it damaged.”

  “I can’t without help.”

  Oh but that was an open invitation. He stood and walked toward me. Gently, he pushed my hair aside until it hung over one shoulder. I felt his fingers at my neck fumbling with the clasps leaving a trail of scorched skin behind. He undid the hooks that fastened the harness to the dress and slipped it off my arms.

  “There you go.”

  I kicked the shoes off first then slid the dress off my body. When it fell to the floor in a whispering pile, I picked it up and hung it over the back of a chair. He came toward me, still holding the harness.

  “Hold your arms out.”

  He slipped the harness over my arms again and fastened it at the neck and the back. It encased my breasts causing them to look much larger than they were. My nipples looked huge.

  “Perfect,” he murmured and stroked my nipples until I thought they’d pop out of my breasts. My clit hardened, my pussy lips engorged and heated up. “I should have sent you out on the catwalk wearing only this. That really would have caused an uproar.”

  “No bloody way!”

  He laughed and walked back to the couch. “Come and sit with me.”

  I hesitated. What would he do next? I sat a little away from him.

  “Are your feet sore?”

  “A little.”

  He promptly lifted my legs and placed them on his lap, which made me lean sideways into the cushions. He massaged my feet and found an erogenous spot. I was on fire. I hardly noticed what he did next as I closed my eyes and squirmed under his manipulation of my feet. I felt something cool around my ankles. When I looked, I saw he’d placed two slave bands around my ankles with rings on them that matched the ones on my wrists.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I forgot to give them to Sheldon. You should have been wearing them tonight. Let me pour you a margarita before it melts.”

  I sipped my drink and he continued to massage my feet. I kept my legs pressed tightly together, conscious of the clit ring poking out. I finished my drink and before I realized what he was doing, he put my feet back on the floor, one by one, causing my legs to open. I quickly moved, but the margarita was strong and had done its job of relaxing me completely. His next move was even more unexpected. He gathered me into his arms and kissed me. Softly at first, then more forcefully, pushing my lips apart, his tongue entered my mouth and explored. I returned his kiss. I melted in his arms.

  “You’re irresistible,” he murmured against my lips. “I don’t fraternize with my models as a rule, but I can’t resist you.”

  He kissed my face, my eyes, nibbled on the lobes of my ears, then trailed kisses down to my bust. Cupping each breast in his hands he squeezed hard and sucked my nipples until I thought they couldn’t grow any bigger. He stood suddenly, and bending, scooped me into his arms. He left the living room, carrying me as if I weighed nothing, then up a flight of stairs and into a large bedroom. He deposited me onto a four-poster bed covered with black silk sheets and a silk duvet, black with a red swirl design. He turned away from me and went to one of the large dark-wood dressers whereupon I heard him rummaging in a drawer. In a haze, I watched him attach a blood-red silk cord to each of the rings on my wrists. He did the same with my ankles.

  I lay spread-eagled, my legs so far apart I doubted they could spread any further as he tied the cords to the posts of the bed. He spread my arms wide and stretched them tight, then secured them in the same manor. I couldn’t move anything except my hips and head. I didn’t protest at any of this, even though my inability to move scared me a little. It also heightened my libido to be displayed so wantonly, my clit so visible. If the locks hadn’t kept my pussy lips together, he could have seen everything. I felt the skin tugging on the rings as I squirmed.

  He climbed on the bed and knelt between my legs. He was still fully clothed. He gazed down at my clit, at my pussy, and I squirmed in ecstasy. He had the keys. He had the power to open the locks. But he didn’t. He gazed at my pussy for a while, then bent down and licked me, from my crack to my clit. He was very careful.

  “You’re still a tad raw. It’s going to take a few more weeks to heal completely,” he said, his voice hoarse as he pushed gently on my clit, avoiding the ring and the hood. I felt it rise, engorge, throb as he rubbed in circular motion. Feeling carefully between the folds, he pushed his finger in between the locks and found my sopping vagina. He leaned dow
n and sucked my flowing juices, then entered me with his finger again, just one finger, but I ached for more. I tugged at my bonds with my feet, and jerked my arms twisting beneath him. Leaving his finger inside me, he reached up and squeezed my breasts hard, then pinched my nipples so hard, I screamed. It was an exquisite pain, a pain I wanted more of.

  “Do you like that?” he asked in a husky and low voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me?”

  “Oh, damn, yes.”

  “You can’t have me yet. Not until you beg for me.”

  “I want you. I do.”

  He withdrew his finger and got off the bed. He piled pillows under my head and upper body until I lay raised. He slowly took his shirt off, then undid his belt. I heard the boots fall as he pulled them off. His pants were next. I gasped when I saw his cock spring free. It was massive, or it seemed so to me. He climbed back on the bed and swung a leg across my chest. Then taking holding of the headboard, he leaned forward, his groin toward my face. His cock brushed my lips.

  “I’ve never—”

  “Given anyone a blowjob? Boy, you are virginal.”

  He forced his cock against my lips again, more insistently demanding entry. I opened my mouth. The head barely fit inside, it was so big. He pushed into my mouth until I thought I would gag.

  “Suck, pretend it’s a popsicle,” he told me. I sucked as hard as I could. It was decidedly uncomfortable. If I could hold it with a hand, it might have been easier. I soon got the hang of how to tease him by tasting the hole with my tongue and licking the bulbous head. He moved within my mouth while I sucked. His breathing sped up and I knew, as if by some instinct, he was close to coming. As he thrust, he pushed deeper and I did gag as he slid deeper and entered my throat. He ignored the gag and thrust ahead with one big push. I thought I’d suffocate. “Breathe through your nose,” he shouted as he thrust again. A huge shudder shook him as he ejaculated. Liquid trickled down my throat. He thrust again, and again, sending more of his juices into my stomach.