Leila: Goddess The Second Coming
Page 19
“Very good, my lovely, that is exactly what I want to hear,” I praised his answer and continued to render his flesh as my prize, dedicated and gifted to me, his Goddess. Counting down silently in my head, from ten to one, I finished the set of strikes and allowed him to catch his breath for a few moments. Gordon panted loudly, his skin a lovely shade of angry red. I waited patiently for him to compose himself before I walked around to face him directly.
Using one finger placed strategically on his chin, I pulled his head upward, meeting his gaze with mine. I smiled down at him, his face taking on the appearance of a small child waiting to be directed by their superior. His eyes sparkled in the low light and that essence that was there when I arrived had surfaced again. Gordon had completely adopted his role as my submissive slave and his eyes showed his emotion for me. He had completely given himself to me, body, soul and spirit, and that was a wonderful feeling. Even if our daily situation pulled us away from our true relationship, he would remain my glorious compliant being. Without question, Gordon truly belonged to his Goddess.
I urged Gordon to stand, using the tip of the cane and pointed him in the direction of the play area. He obeyed instantly, rising quickly to his feet and crossing the floor, coming to a stop in front of the St. Andrew’s cross. It was as though he had read my mind, knew exactly what I was going to direct him to do. Without a word, I nudged him closer to the cross and forced his legs far apart to match the placement of the lower portion of the structure.
Skillfully and with ease, I fastened each ankle to the cross using the cuffs that were secured to either side. Without a word, Gordon reached above his head toward the tips of the cross and held his arms there, waiting for me to cuff his wrists. When I was finished, I stood back several paces and admired his form. Thick, tensed muscles ran along his spine and up toward his shoulders, flexing with the position he was now in. Gordon closed his eyes as I teased his skin further with the tip of the cane, tapping his already tender thighs, an indulgent moan escaping his lips each time I made contact with his flesh.
When I began my onslaught of strikes, it must have caught him a little off guard because he cried out loud with my first swing. The cane vibrated slightly in my hand as I struck him repeatedly on alternating sides, causing my hand to ache a little, so I changed my grip and continued. Long, thin welt marks formed on the tender flesh behind his knees and along the back of his thighs. As my countdown concluded in my head, I paused, regarding Gordon with a silent inquiry. He took several calming breaths and held his position firmly yet again. And stubborn, that is for sure! My thoughts interjected some humor in the midst of his punishment, nearly causing me to laugh out loud.
Gordon’s flesh was properly tenderized and he continued to hold himself in a defiant way, determined to take all that I could give. I slowly released the cuffs from his wrists, allowing each arm to fall to his side in turn before crouching down and unfastening his ankles. He slowly pulled his feet inward so he could straighten up without losing his balance. I waited patiently as he continued to concentrate on his breathing, bringing it back under his control. His shoulders heaved slightly with the effort, causing his chest to pull upward with each breath. I watched, hypnotized with the motion of his body. When it slowed down enough to where I was satisfied he had regained control, I guided him toward the bed on the other side of the room.
I had him lie down in the center of the mattress, face down as I retrieved the new bottle of hemp seed oil he had purchased for me. I cracked open the lid and poured a generous portion into the center of my hand as I approached. His skin was a beautiful shade of red, of course in my opinion, everything looks good in red. This thought made me laugh out loud despite my attempts to keep it from escaping, Gordon was no doubt wondering why I sounded so maniacal. Still giggling under my breath, I crawled onto the bed next to where he was laying and began to work the oil into his tender skin using circular motions of my hands. He groaned into the comforter as I continued to soothe his tortured body.
Gordon carefully rolled over when I tapped his tight ass with the palm of my hand, indicating I was finished. He hissed slightly as the comforter brushed his skin, lighting his nerve endings on fire once again. Once he settled himself, his gaze found mine. That soft look still present in his eyes, he held my stare for several seconds before he decided to speak.
“I have been thinking, my Goddess, with the babies on their way, I feel like you should not have the extra expenses that you do, if I can help it. If you are willing, I would like to offer the penthouse to you full time. You should not have to pay rent at your apartment, when I have such a wonderful place for you to occupy,” he stopped speaking and waited for me to reply. His eyes lit up again as he spoke, his excitement obvious as his face reflected genuine happiness. My mind searched for a reason to reject his notion, it could find none. He was right. There really was no reason for me not to stay at the penthouse. It was in a beautiful location, there was plenty of room for us, and I would always be safe inside its walls.
On the other hand, giving up my apartment meant giving up my reprieve. Where would I go when I needed my distance from Gordon? Our relationship was far from perfect, and of course there were times when we both wanted our space, living with another person was a lot of work and I was not sure our relationship was ready to handle that. With everything else going on, was this the right time to cohabitate? Or perhaps he would maintain his condo on the West side of Los Angeles, I was about to ask when Gordon started speaking again, as if he had read my mind.
“Of course, I would keep my condo so that, in the event you needed some space, I would have an alternate place to go. This penthouse needs to be reset as a place of enjoyment, as your kingdom, Goddess. The negative events that happened here should be replaced by good memories and I will see to it that it happens,” Gordon locked his eyes onto mine, excitement made his voice a little more high-pitched than I was used to. He continued speaking, not allowing me time to come up with any argument against it, “I can have the floor plan altered, and create a nursery on the far side of the sleeping area. I will have it walled in but make sure that it is easy to access for when the babies are here. I have also been thinking, I will fly Mike out from Florida and have him analyze our play area and see what he can come up with to make it more, child friendly,” he finished speaking, nearly out of breath from the excitement of his fantastic ideas.
I smiled down at him as I pondered everything he had said. It would definitely be more beneficial for me to not have to pay rent at my apartment. After all, Gordon had purchased the penthouse for me, I had not even contemplated moving in permanently and forgoing my humble abode. Although it was farther away from my new place of employment, it wouldn’t cost me anything to live there so I felt like it could even things out. Despite the fact that it still was somewhat of a mystery who the father of the twins was, it appeared as though Gordon was willing to accept that, to accept them. That was a good feeling.
“Are you certain?” I tried to keep the conversation light. He was already so worked up at the very notion of me moving in to the penthouse, I wanted him to at least know I was considering it.
“Of course, my Goddess, I would love nothing more than to give you everything you need, everything you deserve. When they arrive, there is plenty of room for our children here. Not to mention, the babies could do so much better with both of us in their lives,” his eager eyes never left mine as he spoke. Confirmation that he absolutely wanted the babies to be his. Even though they were unplanned, they were certainly proving to be an asset as far as he was concerned. I never wanted to hurt him, and hopefully everything would work itself out in the end .
“Then I will most definitely take you up on that offer,” the look on his face was priceless. The smile that dawned on his face stretched his mouth to its fullest capacity. Gordon reached out and pulled me into his arms, ignoring any residual pain from his freshly tortured skin. He squeezed me so hard I almost had to fight to breathe.
“I love you, my Goddess, my Leila. Never forget that, no matter what happens, I will always love you,” he whispered into my ear. A sentiment so emotional, it brought the sting of fresh tears to my eyes. Fighting them back, I collapsed into his embrace and let the moment carry me away to another place, where dreams come true and the cold truth of reality could not find me.
-24-
It was my first day at my new job at B.S. Industries, and I was ready to tackle the world. I had given my thirty-day notice at my apartment building, my new car suited me perfectly, and Gordon had decided to accept me and the twins, no matter the outcome. Things could not be any better. Nothing could alter my elated state that day, or so I thought anyway.
I settled into my new surroundings. A small desk in the corner of a busy office that I shared with a dozen other people. Similar to a cube farm situation, without the cubicles. Our desks were tucked into every nook and cranny throughout the space in order to maximize the possible productivity of our department. Bentley had assigned me to the Vice-President of the company, as his Administrative Assistant. I answered mostly to him, but knew I would occasionally be called upon to assist the others in my area. Always willing and able to take on something new, to face a different challenge, I faced my new employment with a great air of confidence.
My first phone call was actually from Bentley himself. Mr. Simms wanted to welcome me to the company by inviting me to lunch, to which I agreed, with slight reservations. A shiver ran down my spine when I recalled the last time I had seen him at the coffee shop in the lobby of the building I now worked in. The look on his face, the serpentine air about him, something was hidden behind his dark eyes that I could not quite put my finger on. It made me a little nervous, but did not want to offend him, so I reluctantly agreed. His voice took on a jovial tone as he instructed me where to go at 12:30. I was to meet him at the sandwich shop at the end of the block. It reportedly had the best turkey on squaw bread in the area, the sound of which made my stomach rumble. Evidently, I was hungrier than I thought. I glanced at the clock on my telephone that reported I only had an hour to wait. Thank God.
I spent most of the morning learning the ins and outs of my new office. A copier that I was informed, more often than not, would give me a run for my money was set against the far wall next to the door that everyone entered through. To the left of the copier, an ancient looking FAX machine was poised, a basket placed under the output tray to catch the seemingly endless incoming faxes. As part of my job, I was asked to periodically go through the incoming documents and sort them into the hanging files next to the machine. Several file folders with names of various departments was ready to receive anything I found that needed to be routed to, wherever. Occasionally, I was informed, someone from the other areas would come check their folder, especially if they were waiting on an important item.
Lisa Herrera, one of my new coworkers then showed me how to use the aging copier. She gave me a quick briefing on how it works, assuming that I already knew the basics “based on my work history.” She cautioned me that it was a little temperamental and if it gave me any trouble, I was to literally give it a swift kick on the bottom right of the lowest paper tray. Somehow, that was the magical fix. I smiled at this notion, remembering that even the high-priced machine at G. Roth and Associates often took its finicky mood out on me, and it was close to being brand new. In addition to the basics, and the emergency maintenance she had clued me in on, she instructed me on how to change the toner, add paper to all three trays and how to use the bypass, in the event I needed to.
An hour later, I was seated in the outside area of a small bistro, Chez Baguette. The sign next to the entrance boasted that they had the best Turkey in the area and, according to Yelp, they had an average 4.8 star out of 5-star rating. Several people mulled about, weaving in between tables to find their final destinations. Murmured conversations reached my ears, mixed with the sound of traffic on the street. The air was cool, the bright sun doing its best to warm it up, yet not as successfully as it could have. I sat patiently, waiting for Bentley to arrive, casually glancing at my cell phone to acquire the time once in a while. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his suited figure approached my table from the other side of the street.
Bentley’s face was plastered with a broad grin, making him appear clown-like. His eyes gave off a slight creeper vibe and I squirmed in my seat as he neared where I sat. When he finally reached me, he held his arms open wide instead of extending his hand for a good shaking. I was apprehensive, but resolved myself to ease into his embrace. The strange energy I felt while I was in his arms was enough to make me want to run screaming down the block. I resisted the urge until I felt his grasp loosen. Pushing myself back from him while still trying to be cool, I regarded him with a suspicious eye.
Taking a seat across from me, Bentley’s eyes wandered up and down my body, casting his gaze upon my curves and drinking me in. He had an underlying air of hunger about him, and I doubted it was for a turkey sandwich. When he finally settled in, a petite waitress appeared at the side of our table. I had already told her twice I was waiting on someone and she had clearly never let her attention leave me. She stood poised above us, pen over paper, ready to write. An eager look settled onto her young features.
“Take your order?” She blurted out, almost too loudly. Bentley looked up at her from his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. He appeared to be deep in thought. I doubted he was truly however, it was likely that he frequented the café and was merely dragging out his order for show.
“Hmmm,” Bentley mulled it over before finally answering the waitress, “I will have the turkey on squaw bread, no tomato or onion, extra mayonnaise,” he finished speaking and looked at me intently, sending another shiver down my spine. I cleared my throat loudly and smiled at the young woman, who was currently tapping the pen on the pad in her hand to match the motion of her foot that also tapped the ground impatiently.
“I will have the same, but I would like tomato,” I replied quickly, her demeanor obvious that she was rapidly losing patience with me. It was the completely opposite reaction she had when she saw Bentley approach. Perhaps she is crushing on him. The thought was amusing, albeit not a complete surprise. Bentley was a handsome man, dressed a little old for his age maybe, but quite clearly came from money, and lots of it. I figured that he must have women falling all over themselves wherever he went and my mother was ridiculously lucky that he kept her around. The waitress finished scribbling on her pad before nodding curtly at me and offering Bentley a warm smile as she turned and made her way back toward the building.
“So, how is your first day going?” Bentley’s voice cut into my thoughts as I stared after the tiny girl who had taken our order and disappeared into the restaurant. My head snapped back in his direction to greet a mouth full of pearl white teeth behind thin lips. His smile was beginning to creep me out. I shook my head slightly, hoping he would not notice me do it, and tilted my head to the side to appear as though I was in deep thought.
“It’s actually going quite well. Ms. Herrera was showing me around the office space this morning and helping me to understand how things work around here,” I stopped speaking suddenly when I noticed his hand had made its way to my knee beneath the table. Jumping slightly, I stared at him, completely shocked and unable to move. My mind scrambled, searching for an excuse to move my leg. Carefully, I tilted my legs to the side, allowing his hand to slide harmlessly off my knee. I breathed a sigh of relief behind closed lips. The place where his hand had rested tingled slightly with the same strange energy for several seconds after it was no longer on my knee.
“That’s wonderful, and how about your new supervisor, Michael? How are you two getting along?” Bentley dismissed my movements as unintentional and continued to devour me with his eyes. I felt naked and exposed as his gaze moved down my curves, stopping at my swollen abdomen. Lingering on my baby bump for several seconds, his eyes seemed to widen before continuing their lec
herous path. I shifted in my seat nervously and crossed my legs under the table in attempt to distract him from his current focus. Bentley responded by licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, his eyes landing on the glimpse of my inner thigh I had exposed.
“To be honest,” I started speaking quickly, part of me hoping that accelerating my rate of speech would make the time move faster, “I have not yet met Mr. Swanson and I was told that he was out of the office until after lunch. I should be sitting with him this afternoon, hopefully not too much later as I am quite anxious to meet the man I work for,” I finished my sentence with a nervous laugh, my eyes darting away from Bentley, avoiding his gaze completely. As each second passed, I became more anxious. Bentley’s demeanor fueling the nervousness I started to feel well up from the bottom of my gut.
“Not to worry, Leila,” Bentley’s voice lowered, taking on a husky tone, “we will take good care of you at B.S. Industries,” another sly smile formed on his lips as he reached forward, once again resting his hand on my knee. I cleared my throat and turned my attention to the rest of my food and concentrated on finishing the meal, as opposed to Mr. Simms’s wandering hands. Attempting to free myself from his touch, I shifted my weight and crossed my legs in the other direction, tilting my knees slightly. It was just enough to liberate my knee and keep it out of reach. He would not be able to touch me again, without being quite obvious of his intent .
“Thank you, Mr. Simms,” I replied shortly. Taking bigger bites of my sandwich than I normally would, I attempted to finish lunch as quickly as possible so I could get out of Bentley’s path. His eyes continued to wander, taking in every inch of my form.
“Please, Leila, call me Bentley,” the end of his sentence came out more like a growl. He was a predator, and I was obviously his chosen prey. I was beginning to have second thoughts about working at his company. If he had continued to attempt to encroach in my personal space, I surely would have let him have hit. Fortunately, he appeared to get the hint with my last movement to get out of reach and did not try to reach out for me again.