Labyrinth

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “Then you’re ready now to be my slave?”

  My instant of clarity turned into an instant of panic. “Oh dear god, I didn’t mean that!”

  He laughed, very sweetly I think. Maybe it was more like a chuckle than a belly laugh, whatever, it seemed to quell the tension.

  “I know, the question is hardly fair, is it? Poor little naïve Evie is too stricken by this appalling situation to understand what she thinks or feels. I mean, she’s had months—no years, I believe she said—to figure this out, and still the question leaves her tongue-tied.” The mocking tone of his voice was not what I wanted to hear.

  “Please, sir, I don’t mean to hesitate, all this is so new to me.”

  “No, girl, it’s not new to you. You’ve dabbled with the desire far too long—and right in front of me on several notable occasions—for me to believe you’re new to any of this. I can’t even call you a novice. You need an example? How about we bring to mind the first night you dared enter my labyrinth on Alec’s arm. Your eyes took in the show, a few qualms yes, but you stayed while my dear friend had the pleasure of introducing you to a little real life submission. It was much later that night when your fantasy finally materialized that you showed yourself to me. I doubt you knew that I was watching when Alec took you into one of the playrooms and bound you to a cross where he introduced your body to the pleasure of pain. Do you remember that?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you remember getting slapped in the face and against your tits and then a nasty spanking on this pretty shaved pussy of yours.” He put his hand to my crotch and patted it gently. The orgasmic roar that suddenly rocketed through me caused my eyes to shut and my body to twist violently against the rope that had me bound. When his hand abruptly withdrew, I was left desperate to feel its touch again. “Look at me, Evie,” he demanded and I opened my eyes. “Do you remember the hand that spanked you?”

  “Yes, Alec West’s.”

  “No, Evie, it was not Alec’s. It was mine. My hand delivering the blows.”

  I stared at him stunned.

  “How many other times has it been my hand on you, not Alec’s? Huh? I bet you’ll spend some long lazy afternoon dwelling on that thought.” The smile that followed was just to soothe the way between one harsh truth and another. “Don’t tell me, Evie, that this is all new to you, because we both know better. You know your mind. You know what you want. Just say it and we can be done with the tough part and move onto the pleasure, to the rest of your life. Are you ready now to be my slave? Are you ready to give yourself to me? I’ve been making myself ready for you for a long time. I’m even willing to give up the best woman I’ve ever owned to have you. But I need to hear you tell me what you want. This is not a decision that I can make for you, and though it may seem to be coerced from you, it’s really not. If you tell me now that you are not ready, I’ll untie you immediately, give you some clothes to wear and have you escorted home. You’ll be in your own apartment within the hour.”

  My anxiety had reached the boiling point and I ended up shouting. “But I don’t want to leave!”

  “Then you tell me that you’re ready.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m ready. I’m ready to be your slave.” My entire body shook with the meanest of sobs. But then he put his hand to my face and with that look of wonder and awe returning to his, I was instantly stilled. I could not believe the strong feeling of affection that he communicated to me in that small gesture, in that one brief glance.

  “Understand, Evie. When you make this choice, there is no backing down, no changing your mind, no escape.”

  I heard his words, I knew what he meant, but none that seemed to matter. “But there is no escaping you, is there?”

  This gave him pause, but only for a moment. “No. You’re very right. With you and me there is no escape.”

  With gentle and effortless grace, Dominick D’Lancy untied the ropes that held me to that heavy stake and after a brief embrace, he allowed my body to slide from his to the ground while he moved on to Lana.

  “So, slave, it has come to this.” No smile now, but I could sense in their interaction the strong bond that still existed between the two. I longed for that with a jealous heart, already afraid that I was failing as the man’s slave.

  I had looked to Lana for comfort, for guidance, for answers. I leaned on her when I had no strength to lean on of my own. But now that I had my own answer, I saw her differently, riddled with desire and fear and a degree of resignation I’d never seen in her before—not that I’d spent that much time in her company that I would know all her moods and emotions. I did remember clearly what she’d said the day before about wanting to be free of the man who would put me in chains. She’d seemed so forceful and determined then, and nothing like that woman now.

  “I’m not sure what a moment like this requires of a slave,” Dominick D’Lancy said, as he thoughtfully appraised her. “What makes a slave ready to be sold? Ready to leave one master and become the chattel of another. Eventually, it comes to that, doesn’t it?”

  I felt her wince, knowing this was difficult for her to hear. Although they were fascinating to me, I knew there was much about this couple that I did not know, and probably never would.

  “How you cringe, Lana. Did you really think I’d forego the opportunity to profit from you, Lana? Do you really have such a high degree of regard for me that you assume I’ll not do what every other master in their right mind would do with a valuable property like you? You must have been kidding yourself, living in a dream world. I told you it was permanent when you so rashly gave your life to me. I’ve never faltered in that conviction. Never! When all my brother sadists heard that Lana McCarron might be on the auction block, you should have seen them—lining up like lecherous beasts ready for the kill—with cash in hand of course. So many phone calls and conversations with interested buyers. Even Alec inquired—though I talked him out of that real fast. I wouldn’t want to see my friends do each other in.” He laughed.

  Lana remained silent, though I could see her body tightening with every word he spoke. Whatever relief I’d felt after the confrontation with my mysterious black man seemed to have vanished in the air of trepidation that now filled the void.

  “I’ve listened to dozens of men tell me how they’d own you, how they’d knock you to the ground, rub your face in your arrogance—yes dear, your arrogance has not escaped the notice of dominant men who find assertive women like you repellant. Me? I’ve always admired your saucier qualities, plus they’ve given my sadistic side plenty of ammunition—as if I really needed any. There are other Doms who would strip your life from you, force you to quit the magazine, put you in chains twenty-four hours a day, or into a cell where you’d be servicing clients half your day. There are some, a little more like me, who would allow you to continue the life I’ve given you—with their own personal restrictions, of course. I imagine some want you more as a trophy than a slave. Word of your availability has given me an entertaining look into the minds of the men that I’ve been associating with for years. Although it’s not been a particularly inspiring education.

  “The thought of throwing you to that pack of wolves almost makes my stomach turn.” He sighed. “So, the decision’s been made. I’ve decided not to sell you, Lana, and I will not grant you your freedom.”

  Oh my! The wince on her face hit me so hard in the pit of my stomach that I almost doubled over. “Dominick!” I tried to rise up in protest, but he waved me off.

  He was as close to her now as he’d been to me, and the subtle intimacy of their silent exchange was enough to make me weep.

  “But, my darling Lana, while you remain my slave, I’m allowing you all the liberty you desire. Do whatever the hell you want with your life and I’ll say nothing. You don’t even have to check in with me since I’ll be busy with my new prize. Hell, you can fall in love, get married if you like, for crissakes—although I can’t fathom why you would. But you can have the liberty you desire.” He starte
d to remove the bindings as he continued speaking. “Your life is yours, Lana, though you will forever remain my slave. My brand is on your ass and that is something that you can never wipe away. Should I at some point decide to bring you back to me, you can be sure I can exercise the same power I’ve held over you in the past. I said permanent, and I meant it. But I’ve not been unmoved by your desire to move on.” He stopped long enough to run his hand along her cheek. “If I’ve had any problem with you, it is that I fell in love, and what you love you cannot see suffer, nor can you give it, trade it or sell it away.”

  Lana was free of the ropes by the time he finished speaking, and when he did, he took her into his arms and held her for so long that I finally turned my head, embarrassed by the tenderness they shared.

  Was it just the wind, or did I hear her whisper a grateful thank you?

  The three of us moved through the labyrinth quickly, Dominick leading the way as if he knew every turn, every dead end and every short cut in that intricate system of hedges that would lead us to the far side. But we didn’t arrive at the exit directly.

  We’d reached another open area, this one much smaller than where the auction had taken place and Lana and I had been bound to the stakes. Alec West was there to greet us when we arrived. He looked at me, he looked at Dominick, and appeared to have any questions he might have had already answered.

  ***

  The slab of stone was cold against my belly, the fire beside us hot. I knew what this meant; the thought of being branded was terrorizing, but I only had to look to Lana, who herself was branded with Dominick’s mark, to find the courage to see this through. I’d already figured out that it would be better not to think too much. So I didn’t think—at least not about what was going to happen. While preparations were being made, I was inside the dance I was rehearsing for the fall opening. Each step gave me comfort, like the feel of my master’s hand on my back gave me comfort.

  “Take the iron, Lana,” I heard Alec West’s voice. Instantly my mind returned from the dance to the reality at hand.

  I could almost feel her flinch as she heard the command, which was quickly followed by a word of explanation.

  “It’s all right, slave. If Megan could brand you certainly you can brand your owner’s newest slave.”

  Was this a twist she didn’t expect? I wondered. Although that was as far as my thoughts would go. Seconds later, the flesh on my ass was burning and I don’t even remember if I screamed.

  ***

  I snuggle against him in bed, feeling his arms enclose me, his lips on my brow and I sigh deeply as he plunges his cock into the velvety home of my lust that he now knows well. I wear his chains when I’m in the penthouse; they weigh me down with the gravity of my life. But when I’m freed of them and dancing the ballet, I soar. My body rises higher, I bound across the stage with greater mirth, while every plié and every pirouette arises from inside a place of power I’ve found waiting for me in the depths of my surrender.

  Now, when the lights dim in the auditorium and the curtain goes up, there at the back of the hall stands my master, Mr. D’Lancy, his eyes fixed on me. I may not see him while I’m on stage but I feel his eyes taking in my every move.

  When the performance is over he’ll be waiting for me in my dressing room. Maybe we’ll enjoy a bite to eat in one of the theatre bistros nearby, or maybe we’ll go home directly where I’ll don my chains again and become the man’s groveling slave.

  Chapter Nine

  Alec West

  The labyrinth convenes again next week. It’s been nearly eight months since that late summer fest through the amazing maze. Imagine stumbling on that—makes one wonder, once again, if there weren’t some secret involving that map written into the paper when the thing was made, if maybe there weren’t some clandestine band of hedonists who used the thing in the same way my friends and I have used it. Yes, it causes one to wonder.

  Ah! If only we could bring that maze back to life again. We only had that one spectacular weekend and there was so much about that place we still don’t know. Weird how it seemed to evolve even while we were there, our poor slaves only knew the half of it.

  However, as much as we’ve considered a repeat, it probably wouldn’t be the same as it was that terrifying first time, and so we move on and play our game of darts again.

  This time, there’s an estate house in upstate New York that will make for a fascinating weekend. Like the last labyrinth, this event may last much longer than the usual twenty-four hours. I’m imagining a far more formal occasion with slaves in appropriate costumes and lots of high-society protocol that will be sure to mess with the minds of our subjugated properties. All the usual suspects will attend—Kathryn, Thayer, Billy, Jewel and the rest. D’Lancy’s pretty dancer will be there too—on his arm or at his feet.

  We will miss those females who were sold in the last auction, more than anyone realizes. We’ll especially miss the enchanting Lana—who I hear is in Cannes wooing an actor she interviewed for the February issue of her magazine. But this is the nature of the game—how it transforms itself from one gathering to the next. How its players come and go and the location and dynamics alter to fit new circumstances. Is it magic? Of course it is. We create that magic every time we open the labyrinth’s doors, bring on the dogs and let the mystery unfold again like a beautiful dream.

  More Erotic Fiction by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Punishable Offenses

  Against Her Will

  Honeymoon in Bondage

  Nightmare of Vengeance

  Puppet On A String

  Betrayal of the Virgin Bride

  Her Latest Acquisition

  Sexual Mischief

  Bounty Hunter

  The War of the Remingtons

  Stained Sheets

  The Truth About Marianne

  Master For A Desperate Slave

  Poor Little Rich Slut

  The Humiliation of Hannah

  The Scandalous Demise of Lily Lake

  The Secret Sins of Lizzy Barton

  Pagan Dreams, Lesbian

  Affairs of A Wicked Heart

  Outer Island

  Into the Dark Wilds

  Force Me To Obey

  These titles and many more!

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  For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…

  Pink Flamingo Publications

  P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051

  E-mail: catalog@pinkflamingo.com

  Website: http://www.pinkflamingo.com