Darker Shades Of Obsession

by JR King

  She spread her hands and said, “Never thought he’d cheat on me.” She hopped onto the couch with one long leg tucked under her. “You’ll catch up with Michael yourself. Let’s discuss Alexander.” Smelling of crisp cold air and exotic coffee beans, she brought out the big guns, her baby chimpanzee eyes, framed by unimaginably long eyelashes, could persuade gay men to become straight. “Man-on-the-sixtieth-floor my ass. I need to look out for my friend, make sure she isn’t shacking up with a total waste of space. People usually associate with those who are similar to themselves.”

  “Back off just a wee bit. Don’t judge Alexander because he’s friends with Michael. We’re all friends with Michael, Sara.”

  She frowned, a dark look coming into her eyes for a moment. “As kids, Michael favored you. I never expected us to become High School sweethearts.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem.” I sipped at my strong coffee, trying not to examine my own feelings on the matter too closely. I found I was worryingly okay with being Michael’s friend. “Look, after a series of misunderstandings with guys, my standpoint on cheating evolved. All I can tell you is that sharp-eyed, worldly-wise men possess various eccentricities, and if they’re dissatisfied at home, they’ll find comfort and seek challenge elsewhere.” I jutted my chin, daring her to keep up that dark look and sardonic attitude at the expense of Michael, but she didn’t.

  Instead, she smiled, touching my desk gently. “A true friend you are, saying it like it is,” she told me, with remarkable tenderness and obvious admiration before relaxing back into her self. “I know I need to do something more with my life. I don’t want to discuss that. How’s the sex? Is he good in the sack?”

  “Spare me!” I exclaimed, screwing up my face in mock disgust.

  “You wish, prude,” she laughed good-naturedly, nudging me with her elbow. “I wasn’t born yesterday, El. Alex is a rather tall man, almost as tall as Michael,” she continued, serene as ever, as if I hadn’t made myself clear. “Michael’s very well endowed—,”

  “Ack, Sara!” I might as well have spoken Klingon.

  “With his rockin’ bod, I bet that stud is on the large side of large and has the stamina of a stallion.” To razz me, she made a horse neighing sound to go along with her nosiness.

  I finished my coffee and said cordially, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss intimate details.” Putting the cup aside, I patted her on the shoulder. “It’s lunchtime, let’s go.”

  We showed up at the nail salon as promised, and a manicurist in white smock led the way.

  “Let’s do this.” Sara looked me over, a pink-tipped nail tapping at her smiling lips. Picking out nail colors, I kept looking at her, wondering what she wanted to do with her life.

  Sara, while fiddling with a bottle of red polish, told me her older sister was having some kind of drama. I only half-listened to the last part, I was thinking about Alexander, and why he hadn’t called. Not a phone person, I deduced, which, unlike PDA, was a big deal. If the last twenty-four hours had taught me anything, it was that he was a lot more anti-social than I’d expected. Eventually, Sara turned to me and caught me red-handed as I was absently reaching for a bottle. “Am I boring you?”

  “What? Not at all.” I picked up the bottle of white polish.

  Her eyes swung from the bottle toward me. “Alexander likes to admire a good old French manicure?”

  I looked at the exclusive shellac bottle and smiled. “He does.”

  “I gave Michael the Tesla Roadster back.” She was quiet for a minute. “No point in pining over it. Oh, and I’ve been summoned for a second round at Putnam & Garner.”

  I blinked. That last bit was definitely unexpected. “Hell yeah!” I bumped shoulders with her in that way sorority sisters did. “Bat-shit crazy salaries over there,” I giggled. “Here comes Mrs. Alan Shore.”

  She went crazy giggling too, and her manicurist stared at us like we were lunatics. Mine didn’t have any expression in her face, Botox most likely. We settled down and cautiously wiped the tears from our eyes, and they resumed.

  A while later, heading out, I stared at her soberly. “I know you don’t have to whittle down everyday expenditures, but if you need anything, promise you’ll ask.”

  She fluttered her eyes skyward and hugged me before I was prepared. I gave her a tight squeeze, and thanked the universe I had both Michael and her as my friends.

  “Want me to drive you back?”

  She pulled away and shook her head with a warm smile. “Did you receive William and Pablo’s invitation for the art gallery? Michael’s going, and so am I. They’d be most appreciative if you came with your high roller boyfriend.”

  “I received it, thanks for reminding me. It’s this Friday?” She nodded. “I’ll try convincing Alexander.”

  Rain kept pitter-pattering as I dashed back to the office. The car made its way across the myriad ethnic neighborhoods, each one more vibrant and animated than the other, and my mouth watered at the thought of plain food. A soft, melted grilled cheese and a warm, chewy chocolate chip cookie. My stomach roiled, protesting. By eating a Caesar salad, I salved my conscience. I had a big boy drink with Frederic before leaving, and smiled all the way home. Through the murk of the evening, my sporty Mini wasn’t as smooth a ride as a certain Maserati, but it was mine.

  Feet moved over the parquet hardwood floor, one in front of the other, the crunch of carpet underneath the soles of my footwear echoing in my ears. I craved a little domesticity, so I lazed around the house. A note card that was inconspicuously placed beside a gold covered bedside lamp caught my eye. A reeling sensation went through me when I cast an eye over the hasty scribble in crenellated hand. Do the necessary, baby. Pack personals and tell your grandparents you’re officially moving in with me.

  Wandering aimlessly, I rubbed the nape of my neck for the millionth time. I just couldn’t seem to get rid of the stubborn knot that’d assembled.

  “Let me fix that for you.” Grandpa’s kiss on my cheek was soft as snow.

  He hoisted me on the sofa and I pulled up my knees, turning around to perch. I folded my arms about the crest of the rail and my crossed hands clutched it so I could rest my chin comfortably. With eyes fixed on the front yard, I relaxed.

  “Poof, all gone. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Alexander wants me to live with him.”

  Elena Anderson

  The Sensory Deprivation Tactic

  Alexander was working late. After the cozy dinner with my grandparents, I puttered around, picking up a book, tanking a few dungeon runs for my guild. I idly twirled my hair around my finger and back, fixing a blank look at the scenery unfurling outside the window. Somewhere nearby I heard the drone of a police siren, wondering what could be going on out there.

  I always, without fail, recognized the familiar sound of Alexander’s footsteps, and right now it was behind me. A hand came around my stomach and I felt the rough texture of a man’s chin against my neck.

  I asked, “When did you get home?”

  “Just now, sweetheart.” He ran one hand down my side and slid his other hand a little lower, pulling up my dress. “Did you miss me, Elena? Did you think about me?” I tried to turn around but he held me in place. I almost squealed as his hand went inside my panties. “Chickens have come home to roost.”

  “No…no.” I shuddered as the pressure on my clit intensified.

  “You wouldn’t be saying no to me, would you?” His other hand began molding my breast. “Because that would be a very silly thing to do.”

  My teeth clenched severely when I spoke. “We need to talk.”

  When he pulled his hand out of my panties, I experienced a moment of loss. His voice was very low in my ear. “Talk about what?”

  I turned around. “Moving in with you.” My voice trembled.

  “Robert will make the change of address online.” His voice was positively slathered with Plutonium-238. “You don’t need to do anything.”
<
br />   “I can’t just move in with you!”

  “Do not yell at me.”

  Civility became ever more elusive. My mind flooded with white-hot images of my fist connecting with his nose. Ruin that face. Ruin its awful attractiveness. Such a witless train of thought, I kid you not, it would barely have any impact on his beauty. I wanted to strangle him with his own silk woven plaid tie.

  It took every bit of control I had to stay civilized. “Ask nicely, maybe then.”

  “Fuck asking nicely.” In less than the time it took me to expend a harsh breath with my surrender and replenish my lungs, he pressured my neck with his hand. “Why not?” His fingers wormed their way up into my hair. “Why not, Elena? Haven’t you enjoyed the past weeks? Aren’t we good together?”

  “You have a playroom, Alex. You have sadistic needs.”

  “You’re right, I do.” A smug smile crept over his face. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he looked into my eyes and slid the silk fabric of my kimono to the floor. Goosebumps stretched along my skin, hints of wariness rippling through me. “Well, I think your account warrants a demonstration. I feel I should show you how much you enjoy…playing with a sadist.”

  Panic-stricken, I took preemptive action by launching myself toward the bathroom door. Cheap shot. Reality—too—turns on a dime. I had no idea how, within seconds I was on the bed, pinned beneath him. As if his fast moves weren’t enough to puzzle me, the pair of leather restraints he dropped beside my head impaired my reaction time.

  One large hand extended my arms above my head, the other one clutching my jaw. “Don’t fight this. You know you want it, baby.” His mouth found mine, his tongue claiming and possessing it. What’s sickening is that I liked the force he used, loved his brutality. He stopped kissing me and let go of my face. “Your body wants me because it recognizes its master. No one else can make you feel this way, Elena.”

  The smooth fucker literally rendered me helpless. He was too quick setting me into the weak position. Cuffs snicked shut around both my wrists before being bound separately to the wooden frame of the tufted leather headboard, as far apart as was comfortable. How?

  “Did you fix a rail to my bed without asking me?”

  There was a terrible stretch of silence.

  “You sick sex fiend,” I finally said.

  Then, “I believe it’s called DIY. Thank you for inspiring me. It’s the perfect hiding spot for a spreader bar, don’t you think?”

  My fingers flexed, I tugged and winced. Above my head, the restraints bit into my wrists at the frighteningly sensitive spot where the bone was close to the skin. Because, you know, all boyfriends carry handcuffs and spreader bars in the traveling case they take to your grandparents’ house. He’d also recruited my abstract black-and-white carré Hermès to compromise my eyesight. The last thing I’d seen in his eyes before he fastened the blindfold was evil.

  I imagined he had to be standing near the foot of the bed, watching me. The thought alone was enough to send cold shivers through my body. I heard a distant rustling of clothing, something that sounded like metal followed by a whooshing sound.

  His belt.

  Every nerve ending throbbing, I jerked up. “This isn’t the right place to do this.”

  Something cool and smooth ran up my calf. “Such a rebellious kitty. I always follow through on my threats.” His voice had a chill to it that embodied inner conflict. Now a warm hand slid along the underside of my bare thighs and up. “You know that, baby. If I didn’t, what would they be worth?”

  I struggled uselessly to free myself. “I’ll scream.”

  “Scream. Go ahead,” his voice growled coldly against my ear. His lips pressed to it. “If you want Frank to barge into the room and find you like this, on display with a wet pussy—if that’s your fantasy, then who am I to crush it?”

  I flushed hotly. Felt the air leave my lungs. “No. Please. Don’t.” Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

  “Me? It’s up to you, Elena. I don’t put out empty threats.” His hand was on my head, stroking it, and his voice was softer and closer than before. “Your stupid choice if you scream. If you air your dirty laundry. I could gag you, but where’s the fun in that.” The warmth of his breath spread across my ear and over my jaw. “This here is fun.” He gave my dangling arm a sharp squeeze.

  I remained silent, as if keeping back the words would stop the scene.

  The weight of his hand lifted from my head. “No screaming at all?” he murmured against my cheek. “Go ahead and do it…you know you want to.”

  Once my fright dissipated, a languid shudder rolled up my body. “No,” I wailed. “I don’t. They can’t find out about me enjoying these barbaric practices.” The last of my words were pushed out between shameful sobs. “I don’t want to be perceived as a weakling,” I creaked, too softly, as if trying not to say the wrong thing.

  His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked it hard. “No scandals, then?” It released my hair, planted a stinging slap on my cheek. “You know, I think you defy me just to tease me. It makes you wet, doesn’t it?” I felt him move away. “Seeing you like this, bound and bare, dripping for me, completely vulnerable, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.”

  There was another slap on the other cheek, then a caress, and then the hissing sound of a zipper. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he chuckled softly, “it’s not that I don’t love your fire. But there’s something about you being totally defenseless, knowing I can do whatever I want to you, knowing that I can make you do anything I want.” I felt his breath on my cheek as he came closer and whispered into my ear. “It makes me harder than you can imagine. Would you like to feel it against you flesh?”

  Too proud to say the words, I gritted my teeth and did my best to stifle a curse, nodding in reply.

  “Oh, I’m sure you would, my little tease. But you’ve been a very bad girl. Do you enjoy making me suffer? I cannot live without you in my bed, I just fucking can’t.” I felt leather sliding up my legs and across my sex. I hissed at the sensation of the belt touching me. My nipples hardened to the point of pain.

  “Defying me and fucking with me. You like making me angry, don’t you?” Cool leather brushed along one of my nipples. I felt it flick against my skin, and the moan escaping my lips betrayed me. The sensation was amazing; it hurt a little but there was pleasure too.

  Tingles raced along my spine. I waited for him to strap me again.

  “Answer me,” he bit out, his mouth once again near my ear. I was so taken by this druggy feeling that I couldn’t even remember his question. He gathered my hair and wrapped it around his fist, jerking it roughly as he spoke. “I said, answer me.”

  “Yes, Alex,” I whispered between gasps of air. I was too slick and aching, and desperately wished I could rub my clit to ease myself.

  “And you deserve to be punished for making me angry, don’t you?” His nose skimmed my jaw, his hot breath tickling my neck. Wanting to reach out and draw his face between my legs, I struggled against the handcuffs.

  He pressed his mouth to mine. It wasn’t a copious kiss. His lips were taut and ungiving, and so I craned my neck as far as I could, pressing my mouth and sighing as I sucked at his lower lip. “Kiss me,” I keened into his mouth.

  He released my hair and pulled away. A swishing sound caught my attention and I turned my head, straining to hear more. I assumed he was taking off the rest of his clothing. I let myself imagine the sight of him standing there naked.

  “Say it. Say it and I’ll let you feel how hard I am.” His rumbling, hard-hitting lines made him sound needy. It felt like he was begging me. “Say it,” he grunted into my ear, his thumb pinching my nipple. “Tell me you want it.”

  How embarrassing is this? “I…I can’t,” I stuttered.

  He kissed my jaw and then my neck. “Yes you can. You can say it. Say: I want your cock.” I felt him rest his forehead on my shoulder and chuckle with amusement.

  I waited a beat. Then I c
licked my tongue.

  “You know what you have to say.”

  I gave in, whispering, “I want your cock.”

  “Say it. Don’t whisper it.”

  “Okay!” I blurted out, more in anger than anything else. This, I thought, is how blackmail victims feel. “I want your cock.”

  “That will do nicely.” He let out a low, strangled moan and his forehead rested against mine as his hips ground against me, his erection rubbing my breasts. My lips parted instinctively when he rose and brought his cock to my mouth. “Open wide, my little cock-tease,” he husked. “God, you look so pretty with your mouth full. You like this don’t you?” I moaned in response and took him deeper into my mouth, earning a deep groan from him. “I love fucking your beautiful mouth. Maybe I should keep you tied up in here to keep you from every other man. Use you for my pleasure.”

  I nodded, a hard suck strengthening the mute gesture. He tightened his grip on my neck, trying to slow me down. Quickly he gave up and started moving my head, urging me to suck faster. As my cheeks hollowed with the force of the suction and my tongue fluttered over his sensitive underside, I knew he was moments away from an explosive climax.

  “Fuck…I’m already gonna come. Do you want to swallow? Do you want me to come in that pretty little mouth?” I whimpered at his words, wanting nothing more than to please him. His hands clasped the sides of my head and he began to gasp and swear under his breath, and with one last shove he starting coming in my mouth. I sucked and swallowed then licked him clean.

  Dropping to his knees on the bed, he slouched and rested his head between my breasts, trying to calm his breathing. “That was so fucking good, Elena,” he panted.

  “Sir?”

  “Hmm?”

  With no Alexander in sight, I whined, “Take the blindfold off. Please.”

  He laughed. It was humorless. “Why? You want to see me pounding your filthy, wet pussy, slut?”

  I clenched my teeth, waiting. Tears of frustration began to stream, soaking the blindfold. Eventually I felt him tug at the scarf. “Come live with me,” he whispered, brushing his lips against my cheeks, my forehead, and finally my lips as he did away with the scarf. “I want to see your eyes when you tell me.” I blinked several times, my sight adjusting. There was light, bright light and a blurry face very close to mine. “Look at me. I’ll learn to do without the playroom. Move in with me so we can play like this anytime you want, baby girl.”