Chapter 2

The house was one of many hidden behind dense hedges and wide iron gates along the endless avenue. Finding it was painfully slow. The camera's cold, glass eye found them, internal elements shifting with precision, then stared unblinking at them through the windshield for what seemed like hours.

At first they sat in silence in the waiting car - her heart racing with forbidden surrender to another, his with apprehension, and finally terror. She was delicious in the cool evening light. He had never seen her so radiant - the creamy white skin of her neck gracefully arched over a tempting hint of heaving breast revealed at the border of the modest neckline.

The dress was delivered earlier that day, a plain black box with a single red rose attached. Steven was curious but quiet upon its arrival. She placed it on the bed unopened, smiled, and put her arms around his waist.

"He always dresses me. Oh, it's not what you think. No garter belts or lingerie, none of that. He puts me in the most tasteful clothes, something different each time. Very chic. Very expensive. Afterwards he takes them from me and destroys them."

"He thinks that little of you?"

She smiled, resting her head on his chest against a bounding heart.

"No - he thinks that much of me. Each time, I'm what he wants me to be. Each time is special. And after, it's gone forever. Me, the place, the time, the dress - it's his creation, unspoiled, and forever unshared by anyone."

Her words still echoed in his head as they waited in the dark car. The dress fit her like a glove, a black, velvet glove. He marveled at how the fabric could be so thin, and yet so opaque. It moved as though it was a part of her, revealing fleeting lines of breast, hip, and thigh with the slightest motion of her body. Down the front, a single row of soft, tiny, black buttons, an inch apart, ran from neckline to ankle. He had watched her button each one, an agonizingly slow process. She had taken her time, smiling up at him after every two or three, as if to say, "Imagine how long it will take him to get to me, to open me up, to peel me like a piece of wet, juicy fruit."

The heavy gates swung inward on smooth, silent hinges. He hesitated, his foot hovering above the pedal, now uncertain whether he could guide the car through the entrance, then along the densely wooded drive that would take her to him. She sensed his reluctance and turned to him. He fought for breath as she leaned closer, her trembling body draped in exquisite ebony. The fine, delicate swirl of her ear bore sparkling clusters of emeralds that flirted with the light between perfectly placed strands of hair. She took his hand. Her smile was weak but genuine.

"Now that we're here, I can't ask you for this. I can't bring myself to utter the words, to sound so selfish, or to hurt you."

Her eyes were liquid and wide with sympathy. But was there a fleeting hint of excitement in the flicker of her dark lashes?

"I can only tell you that it's happened, that it's something I can't escape. Something in me needs this, something so powerful I feel I'll self-destruct if I don't see it through. I don't understand it. I can't answer your questions. But I can love you. Is that enough?"

He flinched when she squeezed his hand lightly, then took the wheel and drove through the open gates without a word. She turned away without apology, looking straight ahead as he drove on. The tear he waited for never came. He knew the road ahead was the only way to keep her.

The gates vanished into darkness behind them as the car crept along a broad curve, lit only by muted lamps hugging the driveway at regular intervals. He heard her small sigh as she settled back into the seat, her eyes now staring miles into the night. Guessing her thoughts tortured him as he peered ahead into the blackness. Was she already with him? Did she know his plan? Was she eager to escape his costume for the night, to be naked and used in a game of their making? Or was it the anticipation of the unknown - something that would push her far past boundaries not yet crossed?

The house rose like a glowing fortress, awash in the blue-white of countless lights spread over the sprawling grounds. The hulking Georgian manor, spacious entry court, and winding drive were carved out of the surrounding dense vegetation that contained the light within it, keeping the property in near-daylight long after sunset. A wide portico supporting six massive ionic columns dropped to the level of the circular driveway through a series of gleaming white marble steps that sparkled under the intense light. He stopped the car in front of them, peering into the rows of tall, arched windows lining the front of the massive two-story structure. Taking his hand again, she looked as though she belonged there - elegant, beautiful, a precious gift to be enjoyed, treasured, possessed.

"Wait for me?"

"I'd rather not. I - I don't think I can..."

"No, my love. I'm not asking. He is."

"But, he never said anything about having to watch you with him. I couldn't take that. Isn't this enough?"

"He doesn't want you watch us. In fact, he won't allow it. I'm his and his alone when we're together. But you must show that you're willing to share me, to give me to him whenever he wants. Bringing me