“Would you like some music, sir?” asked the driver.
“Yes, please,” said Richard, as he looked up from his phone.
“Classical?” asked the driver.
“Sure.”
Rippling notes tumbled out from the surround sound speakers.
“Der Ring des Nibelungen?” said Richard.
“Very good, sir,” he said. “Wagner.”
“How’s Trevor?” I asked the driver, raising my voice over the music.
I assumed Cameron had given Trevor the night off.
“Who, ma’am?” he said.
“Cameron’s other chauffeur,” I said. “Will you wish him a Merry Christmas from us.”
Maybe mentioning the other driver was considered rude in England?
“Mr. Booth,” he said. “I have a message for you from Dr. Cole.”
“Oh.” Richard glanced at his phone.
We stopped at a red light and I watched a group of teenagers run along the crosswalk. Cameron had told me they call them zebra crossings here.
The driver held Richard’s gaze in the rearview. “Weaving spiders, come not here. Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence.”
Richard’s expression changed to wonder and he replied, “Spiders with your webs, stay away. You long-legged things, begone.”
“Shall I change direction, sir?” asked the driver.
“Oberon Grove?” muttered Richard, and he gestured for me to remain silent.
“If it would please you, sir?”
“Any chance I can go home and change first?”
“He saved a man’s life today,” I told him.
Richard frowned. “He doesn’t need to hear that.”
“A tux will be provided,” said the driver.
“Then let’s go straight there.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver gave a nod. “Dr. Cole says Merry Christmas, sir. This is his holiday gift to you.”
“And Ms. Lauren?” asked Richard.
“She may accompany you, sir.”
“She’s well primed. Dr. Cole trained her himself.”
“Then she will be well received, I’m sure.”
Richard collapsed back in his seat and stared at me, mouthing, “Oh my God.”
“What is it?” I whispered back.
Notes rose and fell dramatically. Pedestrians, other cars, flashes of buildings all became a blur.
“Cell phones off, please, sir.”
Richard looked up. “Just texting a thank you to Dr. Cole.”
“I’m afraid all contact with the outside world is restricted from here on in.” He raised his hand and gestured. “If I may, sir?”
He turned off his phone. Richard motioned for me to hand mine over to him. He frowned when he caught the Hello Kitty iPhone cover, but didn’t mention it, merely gave them both to the driver.
I didn’t like it one bit but Richard seemed fine with it. Whatever was going on was making him happy, or so it seemed, and despite wanting to go home I couldn’t spoil his fun.
“May I ask your name?” said Richard.
“Chauffer,” he said.
Richard looked amused.
The music became louder.
“What is this?” I mouthed back.
Richard gave a shake of his head that we couldn’t talk. Not yet, anyway.
“How long before we arrive?” asked Richard.
“Within the hour, sir.”
“Good,” said Richard. “That gives me plenty of time to prepare my submissive.”
CHAPTER 26
OTHER THAN WAGNER there’d been no sound.
No whispers, no further conversation with our driver, just me staring out the window and wondering what lay ahead.
Richard’s told you to trust him, my muse comforted. So trust him.
Trust this incredible adventure.
In way of preparation, Richard assisted me with the removal of my bra and panties, whispering close to my ear he’d explain more soon. He tucked them into his coat pocket.
With my hand in his, both of us rested back and enjoyed the spectacular view of city life falling away and becoming countryside. Here and there amongst the trees I glimpsed large homes in the distance. We drove off the main motorway and onto a small road and farther still, down a long pathway that led to a sprawling vista of land spreading out before us.
Richard and I swapped a wary glance when we saw the enormous country estate rising up majestically on the horizon.
It seemed to take forever to reach it.
My heart took off at a rapid rate when I caught sight of that flag flying on the far left turret with its emblem of a lion.
Beyond ornate iron gates stood a stately manor. Its four central pillars gave an intimidating Romanesque air. Its front door was vast, and beyond that loomed the promise of decadence and unending luxury.
We drove through towering gates that swung wide and pulled up outside.
The most stunning accent was that dramatic fountain out front. Three horses were frozen mid-leap with their front hooves in the air. The spouting blue tinged water arched high then fell into a round marble basin.
Richard and I exited the Rolls.
A sound of rushing water came from the fountain.
Other than that, the air was still and quiet. The only other sound was that of our shoes crunching on the gravel driveway.
“Oberon Grove,” whispered Richard, “is the club for Britain’s ruling class. Reserved only for members of high society, for the wealthy with high profiles. The kind of men and women who set world policies. Royalty.”
“Cameron arranged this?” I asked.
“He’s been a member for years.” Richard glanced back at our driver and threw him a wave.
“What about our phones?” I said.
“He’s taking us home. So we’ll get them back later.” Richard stopped and crooked his head to take in the grand architecture. “Cam’s been trying to pull strings on a membership for me. There’s a ten to fifteen year waiting list, a twenty thousand dollar membership fee, and members are strictly screened. I can’t believe we’re here.”
I grabbed his hand. “What was that thing about spiders?”
“William Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he said. “The words mean that trouble makers can stay away.”
“Was that a code you gave to him?”
“Yes, it means I’m compliant.”
“Compliant?”
“Yes, an established member of the community.”
“Oh.” It came out as a tremble.
“I don’t think you realize what an honor this is. Heads of state are members.”
“What kind of things will we be doing?”
“I imagine taking part in the Yuletide ritual, which belonged to the pagans before Christianity hijacked it. We’ll get to witness an erotic ceremony.” His hand swept wide. “These are the ultimate hedonists. You’ll see the kind of debauchee you only read about.”
“More than Chrysalis?”
“We never do anything illegal at Chrysalis.”
My gaze shot to the house.
Richard frowned at me. “If you’re here it’s because Cameron deems you ready.”
But for what exactly?
I raised my chin high. “I am, sir.”
Richard gave a nod of approval.
The front door opened and a young, dashing butler gestured for us to enter.
We made our way inside.
And were both promptly patted down. The butler asked to see inside my handbag. When he seemed satisfied, we were allowed to continue on in.
The foyer was just as breathtaking.
Black and gold furnishings, sweeping drapes, a low hung crystal chandelier throwing off a yellow light over all this opulence, but even more striking—
On those sweeping stairs appeared a dream-like vision. A tall, stunning brunette stood elegantly on the last step, dressed merely in a tiny thong. Crowning those lush brunette locks was a dramatic headdress; black f
eathers rose high. Those pert breasts, that perfect figure, made her look like a supermodel, and if that wasn’t stunning enough, on her right hand she wore a black glove upon which sat an enormous black owl. Its eyes shone a shocking blue.
It blinked at us.
“Welcome to Oberon Grove,” she said, her accent crisply British.
Richard bowed his head.
She gracefully strode down that last step with the prestige of an Amazonian goddess. Richard had once told me about the need for showmanship back in Enthrall, but this was altogether different. She was ethereal. Flawless.
She arched a brow as her gaze fell on me.
“Down,” whispered Richard.
I sunk to my knees before her and bowed my head, the vantage point perfect for checking out those diamond studded strappy heels and her red painted toenails.
“I trust your journey was comfortable?” she said.
“Very, thank you,” said Richard, and he reached out to take her left hand to kiss it.
This seemed to please her.
“Mr. Booth, you’ll change and then you’ll be permitted to play.” Her focus shot to me. “You may rise.”
I pushed myself to my feet as elegantly as possible.
“You will address me as Mistress Summer,” she said. “Gatekeeper of the Dragon’s Lair. Mistress of doms. Dame of the submissives. My word is sacrosanct. My word is final.”
“An honor,” said Richard.
She raised her right hand and the butler, now wearing a similar black glove, leaped forwards and took the bird from her.
“He’s beautiful,” I said. “What’s his name?”
“Puck,” she said.
Richard signaled I shouldn’t be talking.
She caught it. “There’s plenty of time for silence, Mr. Booth.”
“Please, call me Richard.”
“Richard.” She made it sound so alluring. “We have your tuxedo.” She motioned to the butler. “Mr. Wherry will show you to your accommodation. A suite you may return to anytime should you wish. Ms. Lauren, you’ll accompany me.”
I shot Richard a nervous glance.
“She’ll be well taken care of, Mr. Booth,” she said.
“Please see she is.” He stepped towards her, his height equaling hers. “She’s my sub. No man touches her, understand?”
She raised her chin proudly. “If Ms. Lauren is to stay she will need to be prepared. Introduced to the other subs. Expected to perform as a superior submissive. If she breaks so much as one order she will be expelled. Forever.”
Richard neared me. “Obey Mistress Summer.”
I gave an uneasy nod.
Richard took my hands in his. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Where am I going?” I muttered.
“To change, Ms. Lauren,” said Mistress Summer. “There is a dress code. You are breaking it.”
My heart fluttered with anticipation.
Before arriving, I’d wanted to go back to Chelsea Crescent. See Cameron again. But now I chose to be bold and face this new adventure he’d arranged for us, and show Richard what I was capable of.
After all, Cameron knew my limits.
“Thank you, Mistress Summer,” I said.
Richard gave a wave of support and headed off down the hallway. I followed Mistress Summer in the opposite direction.
She told me I was to walk a few feet behind her and I did.
The curve of her spine, that thin thong, her rounded buttocks, those long, long legs strolled before me. Her noble stride complemented her commanding presence.
As though Summer had been cloned, three similar leggy women strolled our way in that same majestic stride. They too were naked other than wearing masquerade masks. They bowed their heads as they past. These women were six foot at least and their high heels nudged them taller.
I forced myself not to stare, not to make eye contact, but with my belly full of butterflies and this need to find some common ground with these goddesses, it was a challenge.
Inside the candle lit room, I admired the dark wood and lavish furniture. Deep green drapes covered the windows, paintings of barely clad women hung on the walls, and the scent of sandalwood hung thick in the air.
Summer pointed. “Shower and return to me. Do not get your hair wet.”
The bathroom was all black marble and glass.
I found a shower cap, put it on, and headed into the glass paneled shower. I wondered what Richard was doing right now. Was he getting similar treatment? Knowing Richard, if Mr. Wherry tried to help him he’d tell him to fuck off.
I rallied myself. Make him proud.
Within ten minutes, I’d followed Summer’s command and now found myself back in the sandalwood room, wrapped in a plush white towel, filled with anticipation.
Mistress Summer tapped the high padded bench. “Up.”
I hurried over and scooted onto it. My legs dangled over.
“Pain is our prerogative.” Her thumb brushed over my mouth to free my bottom lip from my teeth.
I’d been biting it.
“We expect great things from a submissive trained by Dr. Cole.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” I ran through the mantra: always assume the pose during play, and obey.
Every. Single. Command.
A flood of adrenaline made me focus on the door. I wanted to go find Richard. Experience all this with him.
“Towel.” She held out her hand.
I shimmied on the bench until the towel was no longer wrapped around me and I was now completely naked. She took it from me and threw it down.
“Open your legs wide, please,” she said.
I hesitated, breaking the cardinal rule, and earned myself a frown.
She blinked at me. “We must decorate you for your master, Mia.” She picked up a deep red lipstick and dabbed the tip with a small makeup brush.
“Orders are given once and only once,” she said firmly.
“If she breaks so much as one she’ll be expelled.”
My thighs parted on their own accord, as though she held some hypnotic power over me.
“Show me,” she said sternly.
Gently, I eased apart my labia.
She brought the brush low and painted my clitoris red with the lipstick, sending shudders of pleasure. My thighs trembled and my heart raced. My fingernails dug into my delicate skin as I held it apart for her.
“Good girl,” she said. “Nice and still for your mistress.”
Oh my god. She was dragging out painting my clit, taking her time stroking that brush over and around it, flicking, patting, dabbing, as though taking pleasure from arousing me. Her brush caused me to swell, and as I peered down I saw that delicate nub stand erect, responding to each of her brushstrokes. My sex spasmed, clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed, and her focus down there seemingly gauged my response.
This didn’t make any sense.
Cameron had warned Richard not to share me, yet here was this goddess clearly performing an intimate act. Don’t share me? Had I misinterpreted what those words really meant?
But this was a woman touching me and I took comfort in that at least.
She reached for a small tube of glitter and sprinkled it upon my clit; it shimmered beneath the lights.
She used her fingertip to rub it over completely. “Edible glitter.”
I held back on a frown.
“Down you get,” she ordered.
My shaky legs found the ground, my thighs still trembling from this heightened arousal, but I quickly regained my balance and brought my hands behind my back, assuming the pose.
Back straight and breasts pushed out. Stare forward. No eye contact. Head high, proud. Willing to serve. To please.
To pleasure.
My lips parted and I moistened them with my tongue. My breathing stuttered and my cheeks flushed. It was easy to admire her, from the way she moved so elegantly, to those gentle but firm touches emphasizing her control.
“What an e
xquisite submissive you are, Ms. Lauren.”
Summer continued her ritual, dressing me in a skimpy corset that exposed both my breasts and, not surprisingly, my nether region, considering the time she’d taken to decorate it. She brushed out my hair and secured a feathered headdress, clipping it to my head with precision. Those crystal nipple rings pinched as she slid them on. They sent a ripple of pleasure around my areola and into my breasts, and lower.
She took her time playing with my nipples to adjust those decorations just so—
Shooting jolts of ecstasy into my sex.
A soft whimper escaped me.
She ignored it, as though this was all business as usual, and knelt before me to ease my feet into strappy high heels.
Mistress Summer applied my makeup last, using Estee Lauder foundation, fixing false eyelashes with ease, and lining them with heavy eyeliner. She chose that scarlet red for my lips—
“It’s imperative you match.” She slapped my pussy hard.
Sending another jolt of pleasure.
I stood still, letting her tap out a steady beat between my thighs. “Very good,” she said, continuing to punish me, her hand coming down hard on my clit with firm, steady spanks. Arousal stole my breath away.
My footing lost for a second, I quickly righted my back and tried not to lean.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
I remembered my hands needed to be behind my back.
And shuddered.
Trembled.
She paused and parted my labia with her delicate fingertips, holding it apart for at least a minute.
I stared dead ahead, trying to control my breathing.
Was I meant to say something? Do something?
“Good,” she said, seemingly pleased by my obedience.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
She was bringing me closer, sending me into a luscious trance of pleasure.
This was it.
I was experiencing what I’d only glimpsed at Chrysalis. I was playing in the same domain as aristocrats. My first bisexual experience, and I was liking it.
My reservations lifted as I kept reminding myself Cameron wanted me to experience this. He knew I was ready. Uncertainly was pushed aside by pride.
This gorgeous goddess was focused on me and I sensed she was as high end as it got. This was a privilege reserved for the very few.
For the sensually elite.
Enthrall Him (Enthrall Sessions Book 3) Page 23
