Calder

by Allyson James

  Whatever that meant. “I might not look the type, but I have a job to do.”

  The woman raised her brows, charged Katarina’s credit slip, closed the window and roared off down the street in a choking cloud of sand.

  Katarina waved away the dust and turned to the door. Rust-streaked and peeling from dry rot, the door was almost as unprepossessing as the rest of the building. In the center of the door, a perfectly good, modern, clean thumbprint pad awaited the right person’s touch.

  She found no door chime, no way to indicate she’d arrived. The thumbprint pad would be keyed to the owner, not her.

  Annoyed, she pressed it anyway—then stepped back in surprise when the door rolled open.

  A dim corridor coated with a thin film of sand stretched away from her. Katarina stepped inside then jumped when the door slammed shut behind her.

  “Hello?” she called to the empty corridor. “Someone here called a medic?”

  No answer. Sand gritted under her boots as she walked along, but no one greeted her or came to meet her.

  When Katarina reached a door at the end of the hall, it obediently opened for her. Unlike the front door, this one slid back smoothly and quietly. Katarina stepped through it into a place of amazing beauty.

  A mosaic-tiled walkway twisted before her, leading the way through lush greenery. The light overhead was soft, the ceiling twilight blue, baffling the eye as to how high it was. A cool, natural-feeling breeze ruffled Katarina’s hair and tranquilizing calm stole over her, as though a relaxation scent was being pumped into the air.

  She moved curiously down the path. The walkway was mazelike, bending around greenery and latticework walls laced with exotic flowers. Fountains trickled and the flowers’ scents filled the air. The garden was a masterwork, at once lovely, peaceful and disorienting. A lot of money had been spent transforming this warehouse into a paradise.

  The mosaic walk ended at another door, this one open. Katarina stepped through into a room about twenty feet square, painted black, with the same dark, cool-air ceiling. Muted lights kept everything dim and candles placed in a few tall stands created wavering shadows.

  A reflective copper sheet ran from floor to ceiling at one end of the room and water quietly shimmered down it. A platform about ten feet square and three feet high rose in the middle of the room. It was covered with black, white and red cushions, and a bundle of roses lay in the middle of it.

  Katarina wandered to the platform and touched a rose petal in wonder. They were real, heady-smelling Earth roses, blood-red.

  “Katarina.”

  The voice rolled through empty air, low and male, smooth and deep.

  Her breath stopped. It was the voice she’d heard in her head when the Shareem Calder had come to the clinic five days ago.

  Every night since, she’d dreamed of his voice, waking with her hand under her nightgown, fingers between her legs. As a doctor, she knew that, technically, the aroused vulva swelled and opened to receive the penis, then squeezed to encourage the penis to release its life-giving seed. Technically.

  She’d never felt a hardening clitoris, never experienced stabbing need between her legs. Alone in bed, she had rubbed herself until she’d groaned and released cream all over her hand. Every night.

  Someone at the clinic must have tricked her here to see Calder again.

  “I have to go.” Katarina swung around, seeking the door to the walkway and the path out. But where the entrance to the green garden had been, a black wall now stood, solid, sealing her in.

  “Open this,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “Not yet.” His voice flowed, sending warmth down her spine.

  She wanted to beat on the wall, demand he let her out. He had no right to keep her here, she a highborn lady of Bor Narga, he a mere Shareem. How dare he?

  And why did she buzz with excitement, wondering what he would do? Her research on Shareem told her they couldn’t touch her without permission. It had been built into their genetic programming.

  Calder wasn’t touching her, he was talking, watching. He wasn’t even in the room with her, as far as she could see.

  A door in the wall next to her hissed open, revealing a closet. Inside was a short dress of bright red supple leather and black boots with the highest heels she’d ever seen.

  “Remove your clothing,” Calder said. “And put on what you find in there.”

  Her heart beat faster. “Why on earth would you want me to wear that?”

  “Put them on.” The voice brooked no argument.

  Katarina suddenly thought she understood what was going on. Her fellow medics were testing her. Katarina had been put in charge of inoculating Shareem, and her colleagues wanted to see if she’d be afraid of them.

  Wouldn’t they love that? The highborn doctor who’d condescended to work in the slums running home at the first challenge? They’d ridicule her, say she didn’t have the guts. And they’d be right.

  Calder’s voice rumbled through the room. “Take off your clothes for me, Katarina.”

  “Why?” she said to the air. “You wouldn’t take yours off for me.”

  A laugh floated to her, deep and dark. “Too many eyes at your clinic. Here, we are alone. No one else will come.”

  Katarina closed her eyes. Dear gods, she wanted this. She wanted to slide her tunic and leggings from her body and let him see her. She wanted to face him and open her arms, ask him if he thought her pretty.

  What on earth was she thinking?

  She remembered suddenly the scars on his arms, his harsh voice sharpening when he told her he wouldn’t disrobe.

  Because he was ashamed.

  Compassion made Katarina do what lust couldn’t. She undid the clasp that held her tunic and lowered the thick material to her waist. Her breasts tumbled out, unfettered.

  She’d woken from another dream of him last night, her nipples tight, and she’d pinched the buds to ease the ache. The nipples were again as hard as little pebbles.

  “You are lovely,” Calder said.

  Katarina drew her thumbs across her areolas, marveling at the tingling sensation. She knew he liked her doing this, even though he said nothing from behind the walls.

  “Now the rest,” he said. “Let me see you.”

  Katarina toed off her sand boots and, before she could think about it, let her pants slither to her ankles.

  She assumed she’d be more embarrassed once she’d shed her clothes, but the cool air touching her skin made her feel curiously free. She liked the sensation of standing naked in this black room while her unseen watcher observed her. She moved her legs apart, enjoying the feel of the tile on her bare feet.

  “Katarina.”

  She loved how he said her name, all long vowels separated by smooth consonants. “Yes?”

  “You are even more beautiful than I expected.”

  “Expected? What did you expect?”

  “I saw your picture on your consent form, with your face unveiled.” His voice dipped lower. “I grew hard just looking at you.”

  Katarina’s breath poured back into her lungs, her skin suddenly cold. “Consent form?”

  “It told me all about you. You are Katarina d’Arnal. You are twenty-seven years old, unmarried and rich. You have taken a job in Pas City to seek… What have you come to seek?”

  “Peace. I think.”

  “Fulfillment.”

  She hesitated. “Maybe. Maybe that’s what I want, I don’t know.”

  “With me, you will truly find out what you want. I will show you every step of the way, with my own hands, what you want.”

  Her heart pounded. Without thinking about it, she touched the curls at her cleft. “How can you possibly know when I don’t?”

  It seemed easy to talk to him when she couldn’t see him, a voiceless entity whose rich tones wove magical strings around her mind.

  “I know. I will give it to you.”

  Katarina’s own fingers calmed her, muscles relaxing as she touche
d herself.

  “You can run if you want,” he said. “I will find you and catch you, but you can always try to get away.”

  “Run?” She glanced at the dark walls that shut her in. “Run where?”

  “Away from me.”

  “I’m not running anywhere. Especially not without my clothes.”

  Calder laughed again, the sound low and soft. “Put on the garments you found in the wardrobe. I had them made for you.”

  Katarina turned back to the closet and took out the red leather dress. It was soft and supple. And tiny. The kind of dress she’d never dream of wearing, even in private.

  Feeling suddenly daring, she slipped it over her head. She wondered how to fasten it, but as soon as it settled on her torso, a mechanism kicked in that tightened it to every curve of her body.

  There she stood, covered from her nipples to just below her buttocks in tight red leather. Far from confining, the small dress felt surprisingly comfortable.

  She sat down on the platform with the boots, well aware that Calder watched. She knew he could see between her legs where the dress parted, could see her nipples press against the tight leather.

  Katarina awkwardly drew the boots onto her feet and up her thighs then she stood, trying to get her balance in the impossibly high heels. “I have got to see what I look like in this.”

  Calder didn’t answer. Silence reigned as she tottered to the copper fountain and observed herself in the reflective sheet.

  The copper was polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting her even with the water running down it. Katarina peered at herself and laughed.

  She certainly did look different. The leather dress bared most of her body and the boots reached halfway up her thighs. Her honey brown hair was mussed from removing her veils, and the brown eyes that looked back at her held both anxiety and curiosity.

  The boot heels made her legs long and shapely and the dress complemented her body, building up her chest while slimming her waist. She’d always considered herself a shade too plump, but this dress made her look curvy and sexy. Bold. She smiled in wonder.

  The dim lights suddenly went out, leaving nothing but the flickering of the few candles. The tiny, distant flames reflected on the copper sheet and thin stream of water like wavering fireflies.

  “Don’t turn from the fountain.”

  His voice came out of the darkness, in the room now, not over a speaker. Katarina tried to peer into the reflection and find him, but the darkness hid him.

  “Where are you? I want to see you.”

  “Put your hands on the copper and leave them there.” The voice was not as smooth as it had been over the speaker—he must have a program that took off the rough edges. Katarina thought she liked it better without the smoothness.

  She leaned forward, balancing carefully on the stilt heels, and touched her palms to the copper wall. The thin sheet of water slid gently around her fingers.

  A prickling between her shoulder blades told her Calder still watched, but she didn’t know from where. Did she hear soft footfalls right behind her, or were they across the room?

  Then he was there, his body curving over hers. “Don’t turn around,” he whispered. His chest touched her back as he leaned over her and rested his fist on the copper—and a large bulge of cock pressed against her buttocks.

  His breath burned her bare neck, then came the feeling of velvet on her skin—a glove? Then lips, just as soft but smooth and firm, on her neck.

  Hot sensations flowed through Katarina’s body, along with a need she’d never experienced. A trickle of liquid touched her thighs.

  “Please let me see you,” she begged.

  Teeth nipped her ear. “Do not speak until I allow it.”

  “Yes, but— Ow!”

  The nip turned to a sharp bite. “Not until I allow it.”

  Katarina focused her attention on the wall. She could see herself in the copper but he was only a shadow, dressed all in black, hooded, his face hidden behind a mask.

  His hand moved on her thigh, the feeling of velvet again. His fingers slid under the hem of the dress, tantalizingly brushing the crease between thigh and torso.

  Calder moved his hand to her breast. She saw it in the mirror, black and large, cupping her in the red leather. Her cleavage made a satisfactory picture and he nipped her neck, seeming to like what he saw.

  The hand now slid to her abdomen, kneading her stomach, his touch warm and soothing.

  “You will kneel when I tell you to,” he said.

  Katarina nodded. Anything, as long as he continued to make her feel like this.

  “Why not resist?” he whispered. He glided his hand, velvet warm, up to her throat, over her chin and face. She closed her eyes, drinking in the feeling.

  “I don’t want to resist.”

  “You are not afraid?”

  “Did you drug me?” That was the only explanation for this acceptance of his intimate touch.

  “What you feel, you are doing to yourself. I am only a catalyst.”

  “Your Shareem pheromones,” she said, understanding. “I read about them.”

  His breath scalded her ear. “I will offer again to let you run if you want to. But I will catch you in the end, remember that.”

  Katarina’s heart beat faster as she imagined fleeing through the dark with him behind her, hearing him close the distance, knowing she couldn’t outrun him. When he caught her… She could imagine his large hands closing around her, his weight bearing her to the ground, his fingers jerking open her clothes.

  She swallowed. “I couldn’t possibly run anywhere in these heels.”

  “Then I am your captor. You were brought here to be my slave.”

  His touch calmed her shaking, and she felt warm and loose. “I thought I’d come to treat someone. They tricked me.”

  His mouth found her neck again, biting harder, the pain making her wet. “Kneel for me now, Katarina.”

  She tried but her knees locked as she lost her balance on the heels. She clutched at the wet copper, trying not to fall.

  Calder’s hands moved to her upper arms, grip impossibly strong. He eased her down until she was on her knees on the floor, his huge body towering over her.

  “I will have to punish you, Katarina, for not obeying right away.”

  A shiver pulsed through her. “I couldn’t figure out how to.”

  “And again, for answering when I did not allow it.”

  She drew a breath, ready to argue, then stopped. Perhaps she’d better find out what these “punishments” were before she earned more.

  “You learn quickly.” He knelt, the leather stretching over his thighs as he put his knees on either side of her. “I might go easy with you.”

  His big hands stroked her again, running over her abdomen and breasts. She closed her eyes, enjoying it.

  When his gloved hand pressed her clit, she gasped. The velvet felt odd, but good.

  “Choose,” he said. He moved his fingers slowly, first teasing the lips of her opening then brushing her clit, now wet and swollen. “Which punishment would you like first?”

  Katarina’s breath caught. “What are my choices?”

  “You can have the lash.” Calder’s voice caressed the word, and Katarina envisioned herself naked on hands and knees while the shadow of him stood over her. She could already feel the sting of leather on her backside as he whipped her.

  “Or?”

  “My bare hand, spanking your ass until it’s red. Or you can play with a toy I have devised. You bring yourself off with it while I watch, but you cannot stop until I’m satisfied.”

  Katarina wondered very much what this toy was and what it did. “I think I’d prefer the spanking,” she said in a rush.

  “Make sure.” His fingers moved on her. “I will be harder on you as we go along. If you have the lash now, it won’t be so bad as it will later.”

  There wouldn’t be a later because she’d find a way to make him understand that she’d been dupe
d, that she’d never filled out his consent form, whatever that was. That it was all a mistake.

  And then this beautiful dream would be over.

  “I want the spanking,” she repeated.

  He bit her ear, gently this time. “Say, ‘Please spank me.’”

  “Um…please spank me.”

  “Say, ‘Please, Calder, discipline me. I deserve it.’”

  His fingers moved faster, and she gasped. “Please, Calder, discipline me. I deserve it.”

  His fingers moved again, smearing her own cream all over her, her clit hot and aching. She felt herself winding toward climax, wanting it, reaching for it…

  Calder withdrew his hand and the sensation died. She whimpered. “Could you do that a little longer?”

  “No.” He stripped off the glove. The hand he bared was huge, bronze-colored flesh tight against sinew. Katarina realized too late that a spanking with that powerful hand would be no less painful than one with a lash.

  “Pull up your dress,” he said. “Bare your ass for me.”

  Hands shaking, Katarina caught the hem that hugged her buttocks and jerked it upward. She felt his hands, one bare, one velvet-covered, both stroking her gently.

  “You have a fine ass. So beautiful. Did you know that, Katarina?”

  Katarina closed her eyes. “No one’s ever said such a thing to me.”

  “What I’m going to do with this beautiful ass is spank it until it’s cherry red. Then I’m going to put my tongue inside it.”

  Katarina drew a sharp breath. She imagined his warm, wet tongue delving into her, something she’d never felt in her life. Heat squeezed her body.

  “Later,” he went on, “it will take my cock.”

  She thought of the huge, hard thing that had rubbed her backside, and she gulped. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “Mmm.” He brushed her buttocks, soft velvet contrasting with calloused fingers. “I might be sweet to you and show you how, slowly.” He put his lips to her ear. “But you have to be very, very good.”

  “I will be,” she babbled.

  “I don’t believe you. But we’ll see.” He moved from her, taking away his beautiful touch. “Bend over my knee, Katarina.”

  She glanced behind her. He was waiting, still on the floor, one knee bent, his bare hand pale in the shadows. His thighs were large and strong in tight leather, his face completely hidden behind a black hood.