Page 10 of The Secret Club
James draws my hands together in his and squeezes them, my palms are already beginning to sweat. “You’re going to do amazing. I think you’re really going to enjoy this.”
Heat flashes in his eyes. “And I’m going to enjoy your body the minute you walk into this house. That rich stranger might have you for two hours, but I’m going to fuck him out of you when you return.”
My clit sparks at his words and the way he’s looking at me. Something dark is brewing in his eyes and mind. I can see it. This new job might be unlocking this strange opportunity for me, but it is also unlocking something in James. Something darker that has always been hidden just under the surface.
James blinks his expression clear, kisses my lips, swings me around and taps me on my bottom. My driver is here, my phone just pinged. I say goodbye as I shut the door and open the blacked out BMW car door and take a seat. I smile nervously at the driver who points to the blindfold on the seat and asks me to put it on.
“I’m Frank, Roxy, I am going to be your driver today. It’s going to be a 30 minute drive but I’ll put the radio on for you. Just relax and we’ll be there in no time.”
I take a deep breath, slide into the comfy leather seats a bit deeper and try to work on my breathing.
About 30 minutes later I can feel the car turn onto a gravelly road and I suspect we have arrived. The car stops and Frank tells me to take my blindfold off.
Blinking for a few moments, I look out of the window to see we are at the back entrance of a large old house. It’s dark but I can see there is a driveway circling the house with trees and lawn for as far as I can see. Frank nods for me to go up to the door. “I’ll be right here at 9pm,” he assures me. And with that he’s back in his car.
My palms are sweating, I’m almost wobbling on my heels like the first time I had my interview with Sandy. Six months of wearing these heels and I don’t even recognise the person I am now and what I’m about to do. I try and suck in deep breaths to fill up my lungs. I can do this, I repeat to myself. I want this. I want to be here, I want to play.
The door creaks open and standing before me is a man more attractive than I was expecting. Why I thought people with kinks would look unattractive is beyond me. He’s tall, built shoulders with light brown hair, slicked over to one side. Not in a geeky kind of way, more a classy, rich kind of way. He’s wearing black rimmed glasses and a light blue striped Ralph Lauren shirt tucked into trousers that look more designer than high street. A brown leather belt is around his slim waist and he smells fresh and clean, like he’s fresh from a shower. I’m horrible at guessing ages, but my money is on mid-forties.
“Hi,” I manage to squeak out as my eyes meet his. They’re green from where I’m standing and he’s looking at me like he’s measuring me up before his chin dips a little, his eyes clouding with lust.
“Roxy?”
I nod, smiling hopefully. Should I offer my hand, do people shake in these situations? I decide to keep my hands to myself seeing they’re damp from nerves.
“Please come in Roxy, I’m Greg.” Greg stands to the side and gestures for me to come in.
I step into what looks like a larder. I’m guessing my entering through the front entrance would have raised some eyebrows. I wonder if anyone else is in this house currently. I’m not going to ask that though. Instead, I look expectedly at him.
“Thanks for coming, Roxy. If you’ll follow me, I have a room set up for us upstairs.”
To the right I can see a staircase, it’s narrow and if I were to guess it would lead to staff quarters if they actually have any. I follow Greg across the tiles and up the old creaky stairs that lead to a small corridor. Greg pushes open the first door on the left and I follow him in.
Inside is a double bed facing the window, made up in clean white sheets. Under the window is a wooden table with a camera on it. There are bedside tables on each side with lamps that give off a warm inviting glow like I’ve just walked into a guestroom in a B&B not a little sex room ready for some kink fantasy.
Greg closes the door behind me. I stand in the middle of the room, waiting for instructions. I dare not speak. What would I say?
He walks up to me, bringing his right hand to touch my chin, looking into my eyes. Lust fills his green eyes looking down at me. He slowly moves his hand down my neck and fans it out across my upper chest. “Stunning,” he mutters to himself in a low whisper. A slight shudder runs across my body as I feel electricity radiate across my chest from the path of this hand.
His hand dips down under the top of my dress and his fingers graze the top of my strapless bra. The bra seems todisplease him. He takes his eyes from my chest, pulls his hand out and orders, “Take off your dress and bra please.”
I nod my head, shimmy the bottom of the dress up over my hips and then over my breasts and shoulders. Greg takes a step back, his eyes glued to my breasts. I reach behind me and unclip my bra. My breasts drop out from the cups and I smile shyly at the man looking so intently at them.
He walks straight up to me and with his thumb and forefinger he pinches my pebbling nipples to form stiff peaks under his touch and gaze. There is something fascinating about watching and waiting to see what he’ll do next. My body is solely here for his purpose, his enjoyment. The thought gives me butterflies of lust swirling in my core. I want him to touch me more. I want to be his plaything and let him do things to my breasts that have never been done before.
Pinching my nipples with both hands now, Greg pulls them out stretching them as far as they’ll go, squeezing them hard to pull them further out. Then he lets them go and watches them drop. He does this a few times before slapping my right breast with so much force I gasp and stumble back. Then he’s rubbing the red splotches where he hit me. I’m slightly more prepared when his left hand—palm open wide—collides with my left breast, even harsher than his right. Again, he rubs the spot while simultaneously pitching my right nipple.
If this is what he does in our first few minutes together, my pussy is throbbing anticipating where the next two hours will take us.
“Lie on the bed,” Greg instructs. I can tell already that Greg is a man of very few words.
I step backwards a few steps, then pull myself onto the bed, all the way up near the pillows.
“Lie down. Hands behind your head. Rest your head on your forearms. Do not move from this position unless I give you permission to.”
I lie down. I watch as Greg grabs a bowl I hadn’t noticed on the bedside unit. He gets onto the bed with the bowl, lies down next to me on my right side putting the bowl down between my ribcage and his. Leaning on one arm, the other reaches inside the bowl where he picks up an ice cube and holds it on my right nipple. The cold is biting. My body recoils naturally from the frigid touch. Greg sits up a bit, holds my right breast tight in one hand, then holds the ice cube firmly over the nipple with his other.
It's cold. Like really cold. He keeps it right there, the ice melting and running tiny rivers down my chest and across my ribcage, finding its way down onto the bed.
