The Ultimate Erotica Collection: 3 Books in 1 - Destined to Play, The Silver Chain, Run to You. Primula Bond
pop out of my mouth a little too harshly. ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ I remember my manners.
‘Could you please tell me where Jeremy — I mean, Dr Quinn, is?’ Nothing. I have no idea if he is with me or not, but I don’t sense that he is, if that makes any sense.
‘Jeremy?’ I try again.
‘Please answer me if you are here. We need to talk. Please?’ My voice sounding more anguished with each word.
Typical, just when I need to speak to him, he has vanished.
Hot tea is carefully placed in my hand and smells delicious. It calms me and distracts me from my rising nerves. I embrace the infusion in the air, scenting camomile, with a hint of vanilla perhaps. I taste a little at a time so I don’t burn my lips. Perfect. The tiny cup feels like a heavy weight in my hands given the relaxed state of my muscles. As I finish the remainder, I feel bands around my wrists. The cup is taken away from me, giving me the opportunity to explore further. It feels like leather with a small jingly thing rattling above and below. They are a couple of inches long and fit quite snugly around each wrist. Shit!
‘Jeremy!’
Silence surrounds me.
I try to find where they are buckled, but can’t seem to locate an opening. Don’t tell me these, too, have been tailor-made. I feel my pulse quicken. I scan my body mentally to locate any other foreign objects and sure enough, there are also two, slightly larger versions around my ankles. Oh god, I go weak at the knees. In sheer defiance I quickly attempt to find an opening or buckle to remove. There is nothing. This happened when I was asleep?
I’m startled to feel that another band is being swiftly placed around my neck; there is a strange sound as it is tightened into position. I’m momentarily stunned, finding it difficult to breathe as I adjust to the constricted feeling. It too, has a jingly metal component, one on the front and one on the back. I freeze. This is it. This is what Jeremy was talking about. Wanting to play harder, push the boundaries.
What does he want to experience with me like this? More importantly, what does he want me to experience like this? Okay, I think to try and calm myself down, it is not as if I didn’t know this was coming in some way and here it is. It is apparently going to happen very soon. Oh, dear. The adrenaline pounding through my heart and pumping through my veins is more pronounced now than it was when I jumped out of the plane. The physicality of my emotions is as fascinating as it is astounding. So real, so intense, so vital. Am I prepared to stop now, when my response is this intriguing?
What are the alternatives? I could speak. I could scream. Perhaps that is what I should do, right here, right now … but I don’t. I remind myself that I did exactly that at the dinner to no purpose whatsoever, and thank goodness he completely ignored me then because the sexual tension was exceptionally gratifying in the longer term. I literally feel carnal energy shooting through my body at the memories. Ah yes, it was definitely worth fighting through my own fear to achieve such phenomenal rewards.
This must be part of his master plan. He has certainly succeeded in sending me into hyperventilating overdrive and nothing has even happened except for an exquisite massage and leather straps bound to my body. I love and hate that he can do this to me, make me feel and experience things I never believed possible. It makes me feel as if every beat of my heart is meaningful to my life. I will do this for him, for myself and for his research. I will be strong for him and maybe, just maybe, it may help set me free. From whom, from what I wonder … possibly, from myself …
Am I willing to discover the truth first-hand rather than watch from the sidelines of life?
I stand silently as my wrists are bound behind my back.
Still silent, as a velvet hood encircles my face.
Remain mute, as I am ushered along a corridor, my bare feet shuffling on the plush carpet. Demurely being led to a destination without force, by unknown, faceless strangers, without resisting. How many people surround me? I have no idea. I sense their energy, not their quantity.
I am forced to confront the stark reality of asking myself once and for all, if I do, in all honesty, trust Jeremy. Imagine my life without the seductive, beguiling, enticing and challenging Jeremy in it. Of course I trust him, when have I not? He brings my otherwise black and white life into brilliant technicolour. Although I’d be remiss if I didn’t also acknowledge his expertise in creating phenomenal psychological dramas, such as the one I am currently in. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a deep baritone voice.
‘Bring her to me.’
I am brought.
Strong male hands lightly grip my upper arms.
‘Remove her robe.’
It is removed.
My legs are stationed apart.
Life is strange, you know. We spend our whole lives building up self-esteem, learning to love ourselves, educate ourselves, ‘better’ ourselves, and then it comes to this? How incredibly quickly the confidence we build for ourselves, built carefully layer upon layer over the years, the decades, can dissolve into insignificance in mere seconds.
The way people look and dress and act, what you do, what you earn, how well educated you are, means nothing when you are stripped bare, desperately naked, vision violated, symbols of slavery strapped to your ankles, wrists and neck.
Two fingers deftly penetrate my vagina so efficiently that my mind is instantly silenced and reality slices through me. I stagger forward with the shock of the intrusion but am held securely in place. My breathing quickens in response.
What power is left? What ounce of human dignity?
How is it then, that if I had a penis, I’d have a massive erection?
I have a sense of slipping into a psychological void, a place I have never dared enter within my own psyche, somewhat like I imagine Alice felt sliding down the rabbit hole in her mind. I am compelled to continue the journey.
‘Note that,’ says the baritone.
Noting … I really am on the other side of the experiment now. Who would have thought that I would be standing here accepting the violation that has just occurred to my body? Not me, not in a million years.
‘Place her in position.’
Outwardly, no voice, no sight. Complete acquiescence as I am lowered into a kneeling position.
Something long, thin, smooth and cold slides under my breasts. I inhale sharply at the touch. Like the bow of a violin, it moves back and forward across my chest, sliding slowly below my breasts, then above, then carefully and accurately past the tips of my nipples as if tuning itself to my body. The sensation is slow and rhythmic and I’m grateful I’m already on my knees. My nipples harden in anticipation as illicit shivers cascade through my shoulders and back. The bow then moves seamlessly and elegantly between my thighs, creating such a heightened sensual tension it causes me to cry out in anticipation of what is to come. It is preparing my body for imminent play.
‘Hmm. She does react instantaneously, J, just as you said. This is excellent news.’
J — Jeremy? He has been discussing me with others? Of course he has, I’m here aren’t I? I answer my own question.
‘Jeremy! Please talk to me.’ My voice escapes more softly than I expect; apparently it has been buried too long.
Finally, his voice comes from behind me, I’m relieved to know he is so close. ‘Yes, Alexa. I am right here.’ His words whisper comfortingly against my ear.
‘Oh, thank god, there you are.’ I nestle my face towards him. ‘Is this honestly what you want from me, want me to experience?’
‘I have never wanted anything more in my life,’ he states quietly, sensually.
‘Really?’ Okay, this is it. Can I do this for him, for myself, for us?
‘I want you to embrace