My head drops into my hands. I'd prefer a hole in the ground but this will have to do.
"Where to, love?"
I drag myself back upright and rest my head on the window. The cold glass feels good on my face, hot with frustration. I realise I haven't even told the driver where to take me.
"Onslow Gardens please."
"South Kensington?"
"Yes please."
Get in the car.
I try to decipher his tone, the expression on his face. It was an instruction -- no -- a command. That's a good sign, isn't it? He still wants to own me.
Get in the car.
He wasn't looking at me when he said it. His eyes were locked on me the whole time, up until then.
Don't disappoint me, Sasha.
Have I failed already? My head lands back into my hands. Ugh, it's over. He's probably on his way to fuck someone else. Someone better than me. Someone hotter than me. Someone who won't disappoint him.
Buzz.
My hearts sinks down from my throat to my stomach.
Was that my phone?
I dig into my bag and fish out my phone. Black screen.
Great.
I toss it back into my bag and search for my portable charger.
"Here we are, Onslow Gardens."
The taxi driver makes me jump. "Oh, thank you. How much do I owe you?"
I pay the driver and climb out of the car. Slumping up the stairs to my door, I fish out my keys, get inside my flat and dive into the sofa. I reach for the charging cable and plug my phone in. As I kick my heels off, my thighs graze against each other and I'm reminded how much Colin turned me on. My panties must be soaking. My hand travels south as my legs separate. My index finger orbits round my clit through my damp underwear. I think of him. His lips on my neck, his fingers digging into my hips, his voice making my skin shiver.
Buzz.
My phone resurrects, its vibrations calling out from within the sofa. I pull it out from between the seat cushions. The sofa always seems to swallow up the bloody thing. The screen glares at me.
Colin.
I jump up and sit cross-legged on the sofa, both hands cradling my phone.
Message from Colin Castel.
I take a breath before tapping in my PIN. I can feel the adrenaline in my veins, blood pumping around my body.
Tonight's Instructions:
5:30pm -- 24 Cheval Place SW7 1EW.
Ring the bell once and wait.
Black skirt mid-thigh length, black top, red bra, red suspender belt, black hold-ups, high heels.
Coat and scarf as required.
Minimal makeup. Hair left down. No jewelry.
Remember our rules.
x CC
I exhale. I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath. I read his message over and over. I glance at the time. Twenty past four.
Shit.
I power-walk to the bathroom and wipe my makeup off. I scoop my hair up in a bun and jump into the shower. I wrap a towel around my body as I hurry out of the bathroom and swing my closet open.
Black skirt, black top, red bra, hold-ups, high heels -- what am I forgetting? Panties? No, he didn't mention panties...shit.
I dig into my lingerie drawer and pull out a lacey suspender belt -- a
black
lacey suspender belt.
Black or nothing?
I decide to go with black.
Sitting at my vanity, I apply some powder, a little blush, a matte brown eyeshadow and some mascara. I top it off with a very light pink lip. I walk back to the bed and start dressing. I wrap the belt around my waist, hook the clasps together then spin it round my torso. I do the same with my bra. It's cherry red, discreetly padded, with an intricate lace trim bordering the cups. My C-cup size boobs look full and plump, and the red compliments my tan. I sit on the edge of my bed and slide the tights up my legs. The satin feel as they caress my thighs is exciting and I wonder if Colin will be sliding them off during the course of the night. I stand and clip the suspender belt's extensions to the tops of my tights. I glance at myself in the mirror.
I look hot.
I slip on a black mid-thigh length skirt and tuck in a long sleeved scoop-neck black top. I step into a pair of black high heel courts. I let my hair down, grab my handbag and rush out the door. As I turn to lock the front door, I notice the lace trim around my thighs peering out as my skirt hikes up. It's too warm for a coat and he's only a 20 minute walk away.
Do I want to flash my lingerie to all of Knightsbridge?
I decide no. Rushing back in, I grab a grey coat, lock the front door and start walking.
I slip my coat on as I walk towards Cheval Place. As I slide my arms in, my skirt slides up my thighs and a construction worker catches a generous view. He smirks at me and I can feel his solid gaze on me as I walk past. I dig my hands into my pockets and hold my coat at my sides. I can feel myself getting turned on. There's something deliciously shameful about walking around with a secret hidden by such a small stretch of fabric, about walking around in an outfit I've been commanded to wear. I spend the walk to Cheval Place thinking of Colin.
I know you've fantasised about what I can do to you. I know you want me, as I want you
. His words pulse through my veins and make me ache in places that need his touch, need his domination.
I arrive at Cheval Place at twenty-five past the hour. I imagine he'll be happy with my punctuality. There's a lump in my throat as I ring the doorbell. I wait. And wait. I glance at the time on my phone.
Twenty-eight past.
I remember his instructions.
Ring the bell once and wait.
But what if he didn't hear it ring?
No, he's expecting me, he'd be listening out for it.
Maybe I should ring one more time.
But what if this is a test?
I decide to side with obedience. I check my phone.
Half past five.
I consider messaging him when I hear the latch on the door click.
The door swings open revealing Colin behind it. He's in blue jeans and a navy polo. Barefoot. I smirk at the way he looks as expensive as he did in chinos and a shirt. His loaded smile is back, though smaller this time. His eyes don't smile with his lips. They consume me. I feel small in his presence.
"Follow me."
He gives me his back and walks down the corridor. I enter tentatively and gently shut the door behind me. My heels clack on the wooden flooring as I travel down the corridor. I reach an open space living room. Modern grey sofas surround a mahogany glass-topped coffee table. The kitchen is found beyond, lit up by blue LED lights lining the bottom of minimalist mahogany cabinets which frame a large kitchen island. To the left, a staircase leads to a glass mezzanine which hangs over a wall-length fireplace and TV unit. Colin is seated on one of the sofas, his intimidating gaze locked on me.
"How are you feeling?"
His question surprises me. "I'm a bit nervous."
Colin stands and walks towards me. My heart is thumping, my chest feels tight - and yet I can't decide if I'm scared or horny. He stops in front of me. I dare not look up. Suddenly, his arms are around me, his chest pressed up against mine, his chin resting on my head.
He's hugging me?
"Sasha, do you trust me?"
His arms are strong around me, I feel warm, I feel safe, I feel protected. I exhale and submit into his hug. "Yes, I do."
"What's our safe word?"
"Red."
"Good girl." He separates his body from mine and returns back to his seat. "Take your coat off."
Standing before him, I slip my coat off and let it drop to the floor. His eyes drink me in, sip by sip.
"Top."
I peel my top off over my head and toss it to the ground. I don't need to look down to know that the garters on my tights are showing. Colin's gaze makes that obvious.
"Look at you. You look like an absolute slut."
Slut.
The name makes me throb instantly.
"Did you enjoy dressing up like a whore for your master?"
Fuck.
"Yes."
"Yes what."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I hope I won't need to remind you how to address me."
"No, sorry sir."
"Turn around and take your skirt off."
I give Colin my back and pull my skirt off slowly, allowing it to graze my bare ass as it falls to the floor. There's silence. I resist the strong temptation to turn my head around and see what he's doing. Suddenly, he's behind me, his finger running down slowly from my neck to my back. I can feel his erection rock hard against my ass.
"Recite your instructions for tonight, slut."
I clear my throat and try to ignore the trail he's setting alight with his finger. "Five thirty pm, Twenty-four Chev-"
"Five thirty."
"Yes, sir."
"And what time were you at my door?"
I gulp. "Five twenty-five, sir."
