Chapter 4

"If only others could see you as I do."

He paced slowly as he spoke, eyes feasting on white flesh against the crimson sheets under her. The bed, a heavy four-poster with a canopy frame, was positioned at the very center of the room. At first sight it was an imposing structure, a fusion of dark carved woods and burnished metal in an old-world Mediterranean style. As he circled it, he studied her from every angle. Her thin wrists were stretched above her head, bound by two feet of cord secured to a grille of metal bars at the headboard. A tangle of brown hair framed her face, one eye hidden behind sweat-soaked strands that clung to her forehead and cheek. Her open lips waited, red and full, poised, ready at the next instant to beg him to finish her.

'Such wanton elegance, ' he mused. 'Delicate shoulders carved from the purest alabaster... white breasts firm enough to mimic stone, yet soft enough to allow cherry-red nipples to quiver with each breath... the flat belly, showing a hint of muscle beneath it, as though carved by a master sculptor to compliment the sleek lines of her long waist... legs, white as glistening ivory, chiseled and slim, a thin layer of satin drawn tightly over stone cut and polished by hands of passion and grace.'

He could almost understand how a husband might prefer sharing such a treasure to losing her.

Small lamps mounted on the inside of each corner of the canopy bathed her body in blue-white light. The rest of the room was dark, and the bright light blinded her to his progress and exact position. Only during the few moments when he passed the foot of the bed could she be sure he remained in the room with her, his crisp, white shirt and golden cock emerging from the shadows just long enough to rewet her appetite for him.

Minutes later, he appeared beside her at the edge of the bed. He was naked, and the sudden sight of him sent a shudder of expectation through her. He held a small silver vial, just slightly taller than a thimble. Within it rested a thin needle topped with a single black pearl that seemed to hover above the lip of the container in the brilliant light. As he withdrew it, a drop of clear liquid fell from the sharp tip back into the waiting pool at the bottom of the miniature reservoir.

She shifted away from him as he brought the needle closer.

"Are you afraid?"

Her eyes told him before she could speak. "Yes," she whispered.

"I could untie you, set you free. Your husband is waiting."

She shook her head without hesitation, as if to chase away any chance of retreat. "No!" - another whisper, but one more forceful.

The tip of the needle arrived at her breast, stopping at the edge of the bright pink areola. With a quick stabbing motion, he tapped the point repeatedly over the sensitive skin. She gasped, then began to moan quietly as the needle danced over the engorged button of flesh. The pressure was never enough to draw blood, but sufficient to deliver minute quantities of the drug just below the surface of the tender nipple. He returned the needle to the shining vial, wetting the tip again and again, until both nipples lay wet and glistening in the harsh light.

He stopped, watching the circles surrounding her nipples darken to an angry red. She gasped as the tickle of the needle turned to burning twinges, finally subsiding to a constant, mild irritation that made her squirm and pull against her bonds.

And then he was gone. The darkness surrounding the bed simply swallowed him. She called out to him, begging him to return, to extinguish the fire that had started at her breasts and now crawled methodically through her, seizing her cunt with raging urgency. Her cries echoed through the room, unanswered. She cried out louder, slim legs now shifting to one side, then the other in a futile attempt at relief or freedom. The cord around her wrists tightened and held. Helpless and alone under the intense light, she felt as though she might suffocate in it's heat, a heat that suddenly seemed to melt her womb, sending it flowing between her legs like a river of molten lead.

Suddenly, he was there, kneeling on the bed, naked, between her restless thighs. He watched her with piercing eyes, his golden chest shining, his erection thicker and harder than she had ever remembered it. Multicolored spikes of light surrounded him, flickering and wavering as they stretched from his bronzed skin into the shadows of the darkened room. His voice seemed distant and out of sync with the words that formed on his lips.

"My, my. Where has she gone? Mommy and Daddy's good little girl - a husband's faithful and loving wife - the proud day-virgin and reluctant concubine. What would they say if they could see your hungry little cunt yawning for my cock? What words could you possibly use to make them understand?"

"Please, Simon... I'm begging you..."

"Your answer is the price for my company tonight - and ultimately, the price for coaxing my cock inside you."

"Simon... I don't care... none of it matters... none of it..."

Her slim hips rose off the bed as she spoke, pumping uncontrollably in a futile attempt to somehow capture the swollen purple head that jutted and bobbed, still impossibly far away.

"Ahh, finally, the truth. None of it matters - it's empty baggage, a burden you needn't bear. Here, to be free of it is a simple choice - your choice - no one else's.