Phantom Lover

She awoke with a start, shaking her head to clear the murky cobwebs that clouded her thoughts. Taking a few deep breaths she looked around, as if trying to recall where exactly she was. The details of the dim bar began ordering themselves in her head as she concentrated on what she had been doing just before she evidently fell asleep. Two empty drinks were before her, one on the other side of the booth in which she sat. She remembered coming to the bar at the suggestion of some unusual ads she had seen on the Internet. They suggested to her that the atmosphere and the clientele would provide a different single's experience from other bars, though looking around it appeared to her like just another dive – an unsuccessful one at that judging from the few clients still here.

How long had she been asleep? A quick glance at her watch showed it had been only an hour. But why the two empty glasses? Concentrating, she started to recall a few details that seemed to leak into her conscious. The other drink had belonged to man, a tall one, whom had struck up a conversation with her at the bar. He had a forceful aura about him, yet he had spoken so gently and soothingly with her. It had been her suggestion that they go sit at a booth for more private conversation. She remembered his warm smile as he offered to refresh their drinks while she saved them a booth. His hazel, deep set eyes haunted her thoughts as she sat down and waited for him. The details following his arrival with the drinks however became increasingly sketchy.

As hard as she might concentrate though, the only thing more she could remember was feeling very sleepy as he spoke about his philosophy on relationships. At first it was interesting but she couldn't remember much about it through the sleepiness that must have overwhelmed her. She groaned inwardly at herself for having been so rude as to fall asleep while the man tried to engage her in a real adult conversation. He had been so different from the other men she was accustomed to meeting. A bit older, true, but even the memory of his presence conjured up thoughts of peacefulness and security for her.

She laid her head on the table to collect her thoughts. She hadn't even had a chance to give him her number, not that he was likely to call her given her passionate display of disinterest in his company as evidenced by her inability to even stay awake to talk with him. Why was it so hard to meet someone whom she could connect with? Whom she could at last give herself completely to? She had been saving herself so long that it was beginning to seem pointless.

She was startled out of her self-pity by the distinct feeling of someone nearby and of fingertips gliding up her thighs towards the hem of her short skirt. Turning quickly away from the touch, she cocked the flat of her hand back and looked up toward the presence to take aim only to realize that she was alone. She twisted her head back and forth and even ducked quickly under the table but found no one. Despite not feeling the least bit tired after her catnap, she wondered if perhaps the drink had been a bit too strong for her and if she should just get a cab home.

Getting up, she walked towards the bartender, widened her dark brown eyes and in the sweetest, most innocent voice, asked him to call a cab for her. With a smile, the worn out gentleman nodded his head, winked and suggested she wait by the door for it.

As she stood by the door, she could still not shake the sense of someone standing near to her and caught herself several times looking over her shoulder to see if someone was there. She was just about to step outside to continue her wait there, when she caught the barest of murmurs in her ear, making her strain to comprehend what it was she thought she heard.

"To Club Xanadu," was what she thought she heard. At first the idea didn't seem particularly appealing. While never having been there, her impression was it was one of those clubs where extremely risqué behavior was openly flaunted. Not the sort of place she'd ordinarily frequent – especially alone. Yet the more she thought about rejecting the very notion of going there, the more intrigued she got. Maybe just see what it was like. Maybe it'd help take the edge off her feelings of hopelessly saving herself without actually giving up on it. And from out of nowhere, the thought occurred to her that just maybe, the man she met earlier this evening would be there.

She wasn't sure why she should think that, but the thought of seeing him again and of giving him a proper apology for her rude behavior suddenly created a sense of arousal within her. She found herself breathing a little heavier and the blood start to warm the places of her body that she dare not touch, at least not out in public. Maybe though, if that cab ever showed up, she might dare to, though just a little, in the dark backseat. The image of the man's face was clear in her mind and the more she thought of him, the more intense the feelings of security, intimacy and arousal became.

Her body shivered at the thoughts and she closed her eyes momentarily. Images of the man touching her flashed through her mind, causing her heart to pump harder. Just as she imagined his hand stroking over her flat tummy, she again felt the very real touch of someone there. For a moment she allowed herself to enjoy it, but then her eyes flew open and she stepped aside to confront the cad only to find that once again, she was alone.

She was now a little shaken at having this second episode and wondered again about just going home. Just then the cab pulled up and the cabbie jumped out and held the car door open. She stepped outside slowly, as if trying to make up her mind when he asked, "Where to Miss?"

Struggling to get her address to come out of her mouth, she heard the quiet whisper in her ear again, "Club Xanadu." Her subconscious seemed to echo with those words and the feeling of excitement washed over her anew. "Club Xanadu" she eked out as she fought to keep her hands in check from wandering over the flat of her pelvis. Instead she slid quickly into the seat behind the driver and the cabbie closed the door.

In the darkened back seat she closed her eyes and pretended to be resting so that the cabbie might not attempt to engage her in dialog. As soon as her eyelids shut, the images of the tall man caressing her skin invaded her mind again. While she had crossed her arms over her breasts and clamped her knees together in an attempt to feign being cold, she found her own fingertips now caressing the sides of her breasts in a way the man might touch her.

She was certain she could feel his hand slide between her calves and up to her knees. In her mind, her knees slowly parted, giving his fingers room to continue their way up between her thighs. She did not dare open her eyes and break the spell of the fantasy she was now vividly involved in. The further his hand traveled up her thighs, the more her legs would spread apart. She squirmed in the seat as her own hands began to twist and pinch on the nipples that pressed prominently out from her tight knit ribbed blouse. She could feel his fingertips now brushing over the sheer panties she wore, playing up and down the long lips of her pussy.

As she felt a finger slide beneath the waistband her mind momentarily froze. As if by autonomic reaction, she hiked up her skirt and slid her panties off in a quick fluid motion. Her mind was frantic. Why did she do that? How would she get them back on without drawing attention to herself? She felt her face blush deeply and then she felt the fingertips again brush up her thighs. As if on cue, her head rolled back and legs parted to invite the phantom hand into her. A fingertip gently parted the lips of her pussy causing her to sigh a soft moan.

Her hips began rocking of their own accord as she vainly tried to grip the fingers within her and pull them deeper. The panties were no longer of any importance and she absently kicked them beneath the seat in front of her. She could feel lips nibbling up her neck toward her ear and she was certain she felt a warm breath teasing her ear and that whispered, "So close to orgasm."

Instantly the intensity of all the feelings in her body ratcheted up and she let out a low moan despite herself. Her breathing was ragged and her thighs trembled in anticipation. It had never been like this before when she had touched herself and she knew she should be ashamed of herself, but it felt so good, so soothing, and so intense. But why wouldn't the climax come? She wanted it so bad, but something held her back.

At that moment the cab stopped and she threw open her eyes, looking about wildly. Her knees flew back together and she straightened out the top she now regretted selecting. Its low, round neckline displayed her prominent cleavage drawing even more attention to the twin peaks that pressed out a little lower. She started to rummage into her purse for the fare but the cabbie simply got out of the car, opened the door for her and said something about it already being taken care of.

Happy to escape the awkward moment, she struggled momentarily to exit the cab, trying to push the hem of her skirt down while balancing on her platform sandals. She thought she convincingly regained some of her dignity, though she ached for the retreating sensations that started dwindling when she opened her eyes. For a moment she considered retrieving the panties, but the pull to enter the club was stronger. Walking towards the brightly lit club entrance, the bouncer smiled at her and nodded as he opened the door. Hesitantly, she walked in and stopped, looking around, her eyes staring from sight to shocking sight. Her mind, her morals, her upbringing all shouted to her that she should turn around immediately. But the low whisper returned, along with its heart-quickening tone, "Explore."

She closed her eyes briefly, relishing the tone and inflexion that echoed in her head, causing her heart to pump harder. The power of it both compelled as well as exhilarated her, causing her feet to start shuffling deeper into the club. Her eyes cast about from couple to couple, scene to scene. Women dressed in ways that made her look modest – some variously disrobed. One man sat and watched as his 'date' did a slow strip tease for him, he didn't seem to care who noticed as he squeezed the bulge in his pants. Another held the woman he was with by coiling her long hair in one hand, caressing her with another, while his teeth pulled at the scanty outfit she wore, nibbling at her skin as he exposed it.

The longer she stood and watched each scene, the more she felt mentally drawn into it. Pulling at her own clothes as she watched the stripper and writhing beneath the touch of the man who feasted on the woman's body. She stared unabashedly, her breath shallow, as she thought she felt a warm hand run up her thigh. Glancing down she saw none, but still she felt it – each and every finger running over her skin. Sensually transfixed, she could not will her body to move or look away, being drawn in by the couples she saw and the touch she imagined.

"More... you need more." The whisper returned and beckoned her further into the club. With effort her eyes shifted from the scenes she just witnessed to others going on about her. She could feel the hand slide from her thigh around behind her to grip her ass. She no longer cared if she were just imagining it, she just wished she could control it... move it up between her legs to satisfy what felt like a void that with each moment demanded more attention to be filled. It felt as though the hand pushed her gently, making it harder to resist going further into the club to witness who knew what.

She bit down on her lower lip and her knees began to tremble when she stopped near the next couple. The woman's arms were secured behind her back by what appeared to be a single sleeve as she lay awkwardly on top of a low table. Her knees had been lashed to a bar that kept her from closing them. One man sat on chair between her knees, her legs over his shoulders. The woman's thong lay torn on floor beneath them and his full member was slowly driving into her. At the woman's head was another man who had just completed attaching some sort of bit to her mouth and around her head. It would obviously keep her mouth open wide to accommodate the shaft he was preparing to thrust down her throat. His hands held her head steady by digging into her hair.

She could not tell if the wild look in the woman's eyes were from terror or exquisite pleasure, but again, transfixed she watched, mouth agape as if to receive the man's cock. The void in her core was growing to feel almost painfully empty and her hand began to slide down her tummy to lift the hem of her skirt so that her own fingers could at least fill the void. She couldn't understand why she couldn't help herself from doing so. The thought of someone else seeing her be so bold shocked her, yet it somehow also aroused her deeply. She tried with all her concentration to keep from lifting the hem of her skirt, knowing she'd be exposing her well trimmed pussy for all to see. She painfully regretted not recovering her panties earlier. But it didn't matter now she told herself; her finger was so close now to touching her throbbing clit.

She closed her eyes as her fingers caressed over her pubic hairs, pausing for a moment to feel the hairs brush across her fingers, and then reached lower, only to feel the phantom hand again. But this time it took her wrist in an iron grip, preventing her from touching herself. A sob erupted from her chest as she tried vainly to fight the hold it had on her. She needed to touch herself so badly, but it was too strong. Tears began to stream over her cheeks and she pled with the hand. She no longer cared what anyone thought of her standing there, begging with a phantom hand to let her touch herself, it only mattered that she pleasure herself NOW.

"Still" she heard whispered more firmly in her ear. Her arms went limp to her sides and her body stood frozen, trembling at the voice that resonated over and over in her mind. The frenzied, erotic state her body was flush with threatened to wash over what remained of any self-direction she mentally hoped to cling to. She was certain she felt a tongue trace down the back of her neck and she shivered as that damn hand teased her pubic hair once again. Inside she was screaming for release, but on the outside she was frozen in place, unable even to turn her head to see who might be licking her neck.

The warm, wet tongue slid back up the side of her neck and she felt lips nibbling at her earlobe before a new command was whispered there. "Walk." Instantly her feet began a slow pace towards the rear of the club which she faced. It was darker there and the fear of what lay hidden welled up within her. Yet try as she may, her body would twist in no other direction to deter her from that course.

"So close to orgasm. It is there, in the dark." At those words her body again felt electrified with sensual energy and she thought she would lose her balance as her pace quickened and muscles trembled throughout her body. The juices within her were now flowing freely as she felt her wet thighs rub against each other with each step. Her eyes tried to pierce the darkness ahead but it remained cloaked. She both feared the darkness and welcomed it now. Feared for what lay hidden there, welcomed for the relief it promised, as well as hiding her shame and protecting what little dignity she had left. As the darkness deepened, she worried she might trip over something or someone but there was nothing she could make her body do to avert the possibility.

"Stop!" Her body obeyed the voice instantly. She could sense something in front of her but the darkness kept her from even detecting its outline. The hand ran up her body from her ankles, over her knees, across her thighs and then turned to make large circles around her pussy. For some reason this recreated the sensation she had earlier of the vacuum within her. Her thoughts turned again to sliding her fingers within to satisfy herself. It would be so much easier now, in the dark where no one else could see, but her body would still not obey. It seemed only to respond to the phantom's hand and voice. Just as she thought the hand would slide between her legs and into her, its touch left her. Between clenched teeth a panicked cry escaped.

A moment later the darkness ebbed back from the spotlight that rose on a large wooden X before her. Her eyes widened to take in the details: dangling from the tops of the X were leather cuffs. At the feet, a matching set mounted directly to the cross. A wide strap was attached to the axis. As the purpose of the device suddenly dawned on her, she heard, "Turn about."

Without permission, her body started to turn and she summoned all the concentration she could to prevent it from doing so. Half turned, her body stopped and she reveled momentarily in her small victory. At that instant the voice returned, directing her body, and though fight as she may, her mind as well: "Your body is stronger than your mind. Its needs must be satiated. Your body demands it. The desire is welling up. The void within your core is aching. Satisfying those needs is all that matters. Obedience brings relief. Obedience brings pleasure. Delay only causes needs to become more powerful. The longer the delay, the more satisfaction your body craves."

She did not need to look at herself to know that her body was indeed trembling. For only a moment she tried to control it as the effect of doing so was immediately apparent. Sensual energy coursed through her body as if it were her blood, causing her nerves to fire wildly and her muscles to shake even more. Her subconscious awoke within her, drowning out what few objections she still clung to. Nothing else mattered, it told her, but the satisfaction her body required by compliance with the voice.

"You are a creature of raw sensuality. Your conscious impedes the release of the sensual energy that has now reached previously unimaginable power over you. Turn about and lean against the cross. The cross is your salvation. The cross is your freedom. The cross is the pathway to release."

Without any directive from her mind, her body completed turning around and she leaned against the cross. She knew that to make any contrary effort would only enslave her further to the power the voice already held over her body and her subconscious. Even her conscious thoughts were now barely able to think of anything else but the sensual power the voice held over her.

"Raise your arms and spread your legs." Inwardly she shuddered as her body obeyed the voice instinctively. Her wrists and ankles would soon be bound to the cross, though she knew the restraints would hardly be necessary. She now lacked the willpower to do anything but what the voice told her. Again she felt the invisible hand run its palm up the soft undersides of each arm as it took her wrists and secured them to leather cuffs. In the same manner, the hand felt the length of each leg before her ankles were bound. As if by magic, she watched the center strap lift and encircle her small waist. It tightened, thus completing her affixation.

She felt the warmth of a body near her own as two hands now worked their way around her body. When they slid over a portion of her skin still covered with clothing they'd pull or tear at the fabric so that little by little, more and more of her body was exposed. As her body shivered at the touch, she could see people in the front of the club begin to take notice of her and her skin went flush. Just then the voice spoke again. You are almost there. First your subconscious gave itself to Me. Now your body has given itself over to My control. Your conscious thoughts are now only to obey. One thing remains for you to be released. One thing remains for your body, mind, and will to revel in the sensual energy that consumes your entire being. Are you ready to surrender what will bring you to completeness?"