I See a Red Door

Alena tipped the server well, as Neil waited at the door. He glanced back at them and they seemed to be sharing a good laugh and his cheeks burned red again as they both glanced at him with amused smiles. The corset kept him rigid, but despite the tightness, he found it erotically comfortable; prophetic of what he hoped awaited him tonight. In consideration of what happened to him last weekend, he was in a quandary as to how he was going to navigate this evening, but despite that he found himself aroused. Damn it, he thought; he had to end this.

After tonight.

A limo was parked outside the arched entry to the restaurant, black, shiny, and absurdly large and pompous. Neil wondered what kinds of people would be so rich as to keep a chauffeur driven car for personal use, when suddenly the driver exited and went straight to the back door, opening it and standing back to allow Alena to step in. She sat, smiled, and said to Neil, "Come on; don't look so stupid. Get in!"

He awkwardly said thank-you to the chauffeur and stepped in, sitting beside Alena, the girl in a leather corset sitting on a plush leather seat in a mobile living room. She scrunched up beside him and all he could feel was her; all he could smell was her; all he could sense was her. Pheromones misting from her face, she permeated his being like engulfment in fog.

"Ms Alena, where to tonight?" the chauffeur asked.

"C2 Paulie, C2."

"Yes ma'am. Is there a hurry tonight ma'am?"

"No, no hurry. Just drop us off and return to C1. I'll be in touch."

Neil stared at her in awe and disbelief. She had said that she was independently wealthy and she had meant it.

"I don't mean to pry, but what do you mean by C1 and C2?" he asked.

With nonchalance born of wealth, she responded, "I have several residences. C3 is where you were last week; C2 is where you will be this weekend. It's where I live most of the time. You're moving up baby."

Neil thought about this for a few moments as they headed west out of the downtown area and then asked, "What's the significance of the "C"?"

"C stands for Calgary. No big mystery."

She smiled and hugged him close while reaching for a cigarette out of a dispenser to the side of the seat.

Neil was thinking. This woman always kept him off balance. The key to his chain was at C3; they were going to C2. He stayed silent as the Lincoln floated over bumps in the road that mere mortal cars would have disappeared within. Alena rubbed his corset-taut belly and playfully massaged his upper thigh. Putty; he felt like putty.

There was no conversation; just a heat of lust and passion in the limo, and for Neil the added heat of fear. Finally he asked, "The key to my chain; what about that? You said it was on "my" table. That's at C3 then."

"What about it? You're correct; it's at C3."

"Well," he responded, "I've been wearing this all week, and frankly, it's annoying. Plus, it hurts. And what's at C1?"

Alena snuggled up against him then and mocked, "Aww, muffin. Little girl doesn't like the chain? Worse than the corset; is it? Poor baby. Surely you remember what real pain is, don't you baby? C1 is where I keep my broken toys or nostalgia items; that's all."

Neil was being humiliated again and he didn't like it. The burn in his face was starting to feel normal as he abruptly stated, "Look Alena; this is fun and all, but this seems just a bit over the top, don't you think? I'm not sure this evening shouldn't end. I feel a bit out of my league here. You're kinky; I'm not. Let's just let it go okay? Get the key and take me home."

Alena pulled away from him then. The smell of her swirled away, and he immediately missed it.

"Paulie?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"C3 first please."

Neil glanced at her and felt a pang of fear. She had that same look as when he refused to take that dildo into his mouth. She became silent and distant. The street lights blinked on as the sun set and they pulled up to the place that he only vaguely remembered from last week. Not entirely true actually; he had vivid memories of the inside, the table, the whip, the orgasms, the endless charting of new territory in an unknown land. He wished he had dropped bread crumbs to find his way back.

Abruptly she said, "So, you're not kinky? I could have sworn you put on a bra and garter belt last weekend and let me tie you down. I could have sworn that you had three or four orgasms while I humiliated you and fucked you from behind. Could have sworn you had a hard on after I beat the shit out of you."

She sighed and looked out the window at the city lights as they ascended the Sarcee Trail hill and then turned to him, saying, "You know what I think? I think you're afraid. You're not afraid of me exactly; you're afraid of yourself, what you really are under your vanilla surface. Afraid you might like it, aren't you? Well, I have news for you; it's too late; you do like it; you just haven't formally admitted it to yourself." Alena slumped a little bit in the seat and then said in a low voice, "Look, maybe I should take you home."

Neil listened and understood all that she was saying. It was true, every bit of it. But the last statement caught him by surprise.

"You know what I think?" he said as a retort, "I don't think you are a psychopath like you said earlier. A psychopath is a person who has a lack of empathy and remorse for antisocial behavior. I think you do care; you just need control. It doesn't have to be either/or, you know. And one more thing...I bet you have a red door, not a black one, like you want people to think." He lost his thought then and looked down at his lap and then out the opposite window, stammering, "I, umm, look...I don't want to go home."

If there was a trigger on their gun of lust, this was it. They glanced at each other and melded together, lips on lips, tongues on tongues, hands on secretive areas, rustling and thrusting at one another. It was passion neither of them had felt in a long time, and they reveled in it. Finally they noticed the car was not moving any longer and they peeked out of the fog.

"Ma'am?" came a cautious query from the front seat.

Alena was flustered for the first time in Neil's acquaintance with her and she responded with short breaths, "Yes Paulie?"

"We are at C3 ma'am."

"Oh...oh yes, umm, so we are. Wait here; I'll be right back."

She got out of the limo with a flushed, but stressed look, went to the door and disappeared inside. Neil's breathing returned to normal, but he was flushed as well, and certain parts of him remained engorged with heated blood. This woman was sexy, literate and intelligent. Suddenly he realized he wanted to be with her. Period. That epiphany burst upon him like orgasm as she returned to the car. He was glad to see her.

She took his hand, and within it was the key to the chain, but she pulled it back, saying, "I'll set you free when the time is right. I decide."

"C2, Paulie."

"Yes ma'am."

"Now," she teased, "little girl with a corset on, you are in for an interesting weekend."

"I suspect I am. I do suspect I am, ma'am."

"It's Goddess."

"Oh, sorry...Goddess," he corrected with a comfortable smile.

"That's better my weak little man-girl," she said as she pulled his head to her breast, knowing full well that this was a man with strength, who relinquished it to her on demand.

The musk of her was overpowering and he stayed there, sapped of strength, until the limo made its final stop.

Paulie opened the door for them and when Neil stepped out, he noted the elegance of the street, mostly ornate houses built with what appeared to be brown sandstone. Only a geologist like himself would notice that, he chuckled to himself. Between the houses and looking east, the city lights lay beneath them, like a discarded sequined gown, glittering in the moonlight. It was cold. There would be frost on the grass tomorrow.

Alena unlocked the door and typed the code for the beeping alarm. She turned to Neil and, with the return of the sultry woman in charge, she said, "Come in my dear; come in and relax; you're in for a long weekend."

The inside of the home was cavernous, at least what he could see. The front vestibule opened into an open-concept living room, dining room, and kitchen, that area alone larger than most homes. The fifteen foot ceiling capped a bank of windows looking east over a large deck and the city. The floors were a deep reddish-orange hardwood inlaid artfully with stone tiles in strategic places. He was left breathless.

Neil stood at the door in awe when she commanded, "Take off your clothes at the door."

"What? No way."

She stood at the widened area entering the living area with her hands on her hips, staring at him in silence. Neither moved. Her laser eyes melted him like wax and without even being totally aware of the action, he removed his shoes, socks, pants and shirt. Remaining was the corset and his boxer shorts. She pointed at his shorts and motioned downward. He did as she indicated.

Satisfied and smiling at his bashfulness and humility, Alena said, "Some more Fess Parker for you?" as she poured wine into two glasses. He took the glass from her and padded silently over to the sofa to sit down.

As she sat down she ordered him to stand, as he should not under any circumstances sit nude on her furniture.

"But you told me to strip,' he complained.

"That's right. I did. You will stand while I sit."

Well, this was awkward, he thought, standing semi-nude in front of a fully clothed woman who was seated. It felt very much like a mistress-slave arrangement and he was supremely dismayed that certain parts of his anatomy betrayed his enjoyment of it. His cock pulled at the chain imprisoning it. They were awkwardly staring at each other when suddenly Paulie entered the room saying, "Will that be all tonight ma'am?" He glanced, unconcerned, at Neil's corseted nudity.

"Umm, yes that should be all for tonight Paulie. No, wait. Grab Mr. Webber's clothes when you leave. Thank-you."

Neil thought nothing of it until a few moments later when he realized that Paulie had backed out of the driveway and left. He didn't stay here, he thought with panic.

"Wait. Does he have my clothes? Shit!"

"Why yes, as a matter of fact, he does. Pity. Come over here." She watched him walk to her, sipping on his wine, stopping in front of her. She was at eye level to his bobbing member and despite herself started to laugh. She recovered, partly angry at herself for spoiling the solemnity of the moment. Reaching out to him she unlocked the chain from around his genitals. He bowed and she unlocked the other end of the chain around his neck.

"You are free. You may leave if you wish. If you do not wish to leave, you are mine, and I have strange tastes."

Neil stood there silently for perhaps minutes. The Grandfather clock near the entry tick-tocked an unnerving rhythm as he tried to think. Things had changed and he was confused, very confused.

"If you choose to stay, turn around and put your hands behind your back." Alena sat back and crossed her legs, those beautiful legs, and sipped her wine, waiting.

"Oh God," he said out loud, as he turned around and gave her his hands, his heart racing. He felt the leather cuffs being fastened and locked on his wrists, and then the final click of the lock which bound his wrists together.

"It's Goddess," she said with disdain, as she slapped his black and blue bruised ass and spun him around to face her, "Say it."

He had allowed it to happen again. He was hers. He stared into her eyes with a fixed but glassy-eyed expression and said, "Yes Goddess."

"That's better. Now come with me."

She stood up and took him by the arm like the prisoner he was and led him to her chambers. It had been a "thrust and parry" type of evening and she had won. Now she was going to give him what he wasn't sure he wanted.