Thread: The Grand Castle! (Jack Stalker and Sensualist)

Anne knew the click of the lock was coming, but nonetheless her delicate throat clenched in an involuntary swallow when it happened. It was an audible sign that she was sealed in here with this sexy, imposing figure of a man, trapped... if one could use that word for a situation she was quite keen to find herself in. The heiress watched as Hugh approached her, her hips tilting slightly in a subtle physical invitation, her eyes wide and bright, curious but nervous as he filled her senses. The scent of his cologne, the way his body filled and controlled the space it occupied and the area around it, an aura of power... the way he made her body respond in anticipation. It was lucky she was already leaning against the bedpost, or the slap might have knocked her off her feet. Anne gave a jagged gasp of startlement as the blow connected, then a shuddering whimper of pain. She reached up mutely, her fingers gently exploring the aching patch of skin on her cheek, lips parted in an 'O' of surprise. No one had ever... ever!... dared to touch her like that, to strike her! She gulped again as his large hand encircled her throat, forcing her to lift her chin as the rough digits clasped the smooth flesh, and started into his eyes with shock, confusion and arousal. Yes... sir... Anne whispered breathlessly, the words struggling past his grasp to flow like warm perfume against his face. She listened in disbelief to his crude words, stunned that he could express such ideas, but finding herself unable to countermand or ignore them. The hold he had on her, literally and metaphorically, ensured that her attention was riveted on Hugh until he chose to stop speaking. When he finally released her she realised she had been standing on tip-toes to relieve the pressure on her throat, and sank back down into her heels, reaching up and rubbing her neck softly. She nodded at his command, not trusting herself to speak at that moment, and glanced down at her dress. Well, it seemed to have had the desired effect, hadn't it? Still facing Hugh, with her chin resting on her clavicle, Anne stretched her slim arms behind her and began to undo her dress. The zipper eased down to the small of her back, and her gleaming dark brown hair tumbled forward over her shoulders as she undulated her body slightly, loosening the fabric's hold on her perfect physique. Pressing her hands to her hips she started to shimmy the slitted black dress down, baring her slender white shoulders and creamy dcolletage. Modest but flawless breasts sat high and proud in the black satin cups of her bustier, the garment cinching snugly to her narrow waist and emphasising the gentle curve of her hips. The dress whispered its way down her body, revealing the black lacy boyshort panties that framed her snug womanhood and pert derrire, and the sheer thigh-high stockings that accentuated her long, toned thighs. Anne bent her knees, sinking into a crouch as she slid the dress down her calves, letting it pool around her on the floor. She risked a glance up at Hugh, her eyes liquid with submissive warmth through the veil of her hair, before straightening. She turned, giving him a nice view of her sleek back where the bustier dipped low as she walked gracefully to the wall. She stopped there, surveying the instruments of pain and pleasure as she bit her lower lip. Rope, he had said, and she selected a coil of red silk cord. And a flog? She guessed that was one of the cat o' nine tails things she saw hanging on the rack, and picked one with a solid leather handle and multiple long velvet tongues. Turning, she looked at Hugh's face for a moment, looking for a sign if she had made the correct surmise, before quickly walking back to the table, her high heels making her steps poised and hips sway. She set the rope and the flog down carefully on the polished surface of the table, glancing at her own reflection as she did. With her hair hanging loose and dressed in this sultry lingerie, she hardly recognised herself. The socialite moved to where Hugh had indicated and turned her back on him, suppressing a shiver of vulnerability. Slowly, she ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it up and lifting it above her head, revealing the back of her neck, shoulders, and curve of her back while keeping her arms above her head. My name is Anne, sir, she said huskily. There was no point in concealing it she was fairly certain he knew who she was. And I'm here... I'm here to be bad... she said with a shiver in her voice. Facing away from him, her eyes drifted closed, half expecting the bite of the crop or the flogger.